(1916)
#AmericanWriters
WHERE shall I find you— You, my grotesque fellows That I seek everywhere To make up my band? None, not one
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
a burst of iris so that come down for breakfast we searched through the rooms for
Not because of his eyes, the eyes of a bird, but because he is beaked, birdlike, to do an injury, has the turtle attracted you.
THERE is a bird in the poplars— It is the sun! The leaves are little yellow fish Swimming in the river; The bird skims above them—
Take it out in vile whisky, take i… in lifting your skirts to show you… crotches; it is this that is inten… You are it. Your pleas will alway… You too will always go up with the…
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge
Tho’ I’m no Catholic I listen hard when the bells in the yellow—brick tower of their new church ring down the leaves
THE ARCHER is wake! The Swan is flying! Gold against blue An Arrow is lying. There is hunting in heaven—
As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right
What have I to say to you When we shall meet? Yet— I lie here thinking of you. The stain of love
When the snow falls the flakes spi… that concerns them most intimately two and two to make a dance the mind dances with itself, taking you by the hand,
Warm sun, quiet air an old man sits in the doorway of a broken house— boards for windows
NOW that I have cooled to you Let there be gold of tarnished mas… Temples soothed by the sun to ruin That sleep utterly. Give me hand for the dances,