#AmericanWriters
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
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—
Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...
The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers
My townspeople, beyond in the grea… are many with whom it were far mor… profitable for me to live than her… These whirr about me calling, call… and for my own part I answer them,…
I feel the caress of my own finger… on my own neck as I place my colla… and think pityingly of the kind women I have known.
This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream
You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!
Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
The May sun—whom all things imitate— that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky
When trouble comes your soul to tr… You love the friend who just “stan… Perhaps there’s nothing he can do’ The thing is strictly up to you; For there are troubles all your ow…
They call me and I go. It is a frozen road past midnight, a dust of snow caught in the rigid wheeltracks.