#Americans #Blacks #PulitzerPrize #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
Before I leave the stage I will sing the only song I was meant truly to sing. It is the song of I AM.
I have a friend who is turning gray, not just her hair, and I do not know why this is so.
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
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…
How can Humanity look the deer in the face? How can I,
Expect nothing. Live frugally On surprise. become a stranger To need of pity Or, if compassion be freely
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
When they torture your mother plant a tree When they torture your father plant a tree When they torture your brother
You confide in me that you are lonely,
Look into her eyes and know: She does not think
in our lifetime. Which makes the idea of elections Notice how this word has “man” right in the middle of it? That’s one reason I like it. He is right there, front and center. But he i...
When you see water in a stream you say: oh, this is stream water; When you see water in the river you say: oh, this is water
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.