#Americans #Lesbian #PulitzerPrize #Women #FreeVerse #Metaphor
I do not care to talk to you altho… Your speech evokes a thousand symp… And all my being’s silent harmonie… Wake trembling into music. When y… It is as if some sudden, dreadful…
Thin-voiced, nasal pipes Drawing sound out and out Until it is a screeching thread, Sharp and cutting, sharp and cutti… It hurts.
Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shu… A storm was rising, heavy gusts of… Swirled through the trees, and sca… Her on the clean, flagged path. T… The distant town was black, and sh…
Great master! Boyish, sympathetic… Whose orbed and ripened genius lig… From life’s slim, twisted tendril… In crimson-sphered completeness; g… Of crystal portals through whose o…
Over the yawning chimney hangs the… fall the raindrops on the oaken lo… and smokes the ceiling beams. Drip… The wide, state bed shivers beneat… in the smoke, a tarnished coronet…
You—you— Your shadow is sunlight on a plate… Your footsteps, the seeding-place… Your hands moving, a chime of bell… The movement of your hands is the…
April had covered the hills With flickering yellows and reds, The sparkle and coolness of snow Was blown from the mountain beds. Across a deep-sunken stream
Who shall declare the joy of the r… Who shall tell of the pleasures of… Springing and spurning the tufts o… Sweeping, wide-winged, through the… Everything mortal has moments immo…
It winds along the face of a cliff This path which I long to explore… And over it dashes a waterfall, And the air is full of the roar And the thunderous voice of waters…
As for a moment he stands, in hard… Poised on the fircrested rock, ove… Gleams in the wavering sunlight, w… So for a moment I stand, my feet… Eagerly scanning the future which…
A great tall column spearing at th… With a little man on top. Goodnes… He looks a silly thing enough to s… What a strange fellow, like a sold… Tight-fitting coat with the tails…
The little boy pressed his face against the window-pane and looked out at the bright sunshiny morning. The cobble-stones of the square glistened like mica. In the trees, a breeze danced...
Good ev’nin’, Mis’ Priest. I jest stepped in to tell you Goo… Yes, it’s all over. All my things is packed An’ every last one o’ them boxes
Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard… Thou herald of rich Summer’s myri… The climbing sun with new recovere… Does warm thee into being, through… Of rich, brown earth he woos thee,…
Into the brazen, burnished sky, th… of hoarse throats, it floats again… of the serpent to its tail, the lo… Men weighed down with rifles and k… The cry jars and splits against th…