#AmericanWriters
I said to Poetry:"I’m finished with you." Having to almost die before some wierd light comes creeping through
I have a friend who is turning gray, not just her hair, and I do not know why this is so.
Did you ever understand this? If my spirit was poor, how could… Was I depressed? Understanding editing, I see how a comma, removed or inse…
She is the one who will notice that the first snapdragon of Spring is
When the people have won a victory whether small or large do you ever wonder
Look into her eyes and know: She does not think
My brothers knew The things you know. I did not scorn learning them; It’s just my mind
How can Humanity look the deer in the face? How can I,
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
Expect nothing. Live frugally On surprise. become a stranger To need of pity Or, if compassion be freely
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
The tree of life has fallen on my small house. I thought it was so much bigger! But it is not. There in the distance I see the m…
Going out to the garden this morning to plant seeds for my winter greens —the strong, fiery mustard
My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body