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Lady of dusk-wood fastnesses, Thou art my Lady. I have known the crisp, splinterin… White, slender through green sapli… I have lain by thee on the brown f…
In the flashes and black shadows of July the days, locked in each other’s a… seem still so that squirrels and colored bird…
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
THE ARCHER is wake! The Swan is flying! Gold against blue An Arrow is lying. There is hunting in heaven—
Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!
Why go further? One might conceivably rectify the rhythm, study all out and arrive at the perfection of a tiger lily or a china doorknob. One might lift all out of the ruck, be a w...
It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
The brutal Lord of All will rip us from each other—leave the one to suffer here alone. No need belief in god or hell to postulate that much. The dance: hands touching, leaves touch...
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
I bought a dish mop— having no daughter— for they had twisted fine ribbons of shining copper about white twine
SOFT as the bed in the earth Where a stone has lain— So soft, so smooth and so cool, Spring closes me in With her arms and her hands.
Pour the wine bridegroom where before you the bride is enthroned her hair loose at her temples a head of ripe wheat is on
An old willow with hollow branches slowly swayed his few high gright… and sang: Love is a young green willow shimmering at the bare wood’s edge…