#AmericanWriters
a burst of iris so that come down for breakfast we searched through the rooms for
While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on
Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
I will teach you my towns… how to perform a funeral… for you have it over a tr… of artists— unless one should scour t…
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge
Subtle, clever brain, wiser than… by what devious means do you contr… to remain idle? Teach me, O maste…
There were some dirty plates and a glass of milk beside her on a small table near the rank, disheveled bed— Wrinkled and nearly blind
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last
I have had my dream—like others— and it has come to nothing, so tha… I remain now carelessly with feet planted on the ground and look up at the sky—
The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go
Tracks of rain and light linger in the spongy greens of a nature whos… flickering mountain—bulging nearer… ebbing back into the sun hollowing itself away to hold a la…