#Americans #Lesbian #PulitzerPrize #Women
Must all of worth be travailled fo… Life’s brightest stars rise from a… Must years go by in sad uncertaint… Leaving us doubting whose the conq… Are we or Fate the victors? Time…
In the cloud gray mornings I heard the herons Flying And when I came into my garden, My silken outer-garment Trailed over withered leaves.
WHEN night drifts along the stre… And sifts down between the uneven… My mind begins to peek and peer. It plays at ball in old, blue Chi… And shakes wrought dice-cups in P…
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…
Oblong, its jutted ends rounding i… The old sunken basin lies with its… An inch below the terrace tiles. Over the stagnant water Slide reflections:
Frindsbury, Kent, 1786 Bang! Bang! Tap! Tap-a-tap! Rap!
Before the Altar, bowed, he stand… With empty hands; Upon it perfumed offerings burn Wreathing with smoke the sacrifici… Not one of all these has he given,
Dearest, forgive that with my clum… I broke and bruised your rose. I hardly could suppose It were a thing so fragile that my… Could kill it, thus.
When I looked into your eyes, I saw a garden With peonies, and tinkling pagodas… And round-arched bridges Over still lakes.
The chatter of little people Breaks on my purpose Like the water-drops which slowly… And while I laugh My spirit crumbles at their teasin…
In the brown water, Thick and silver-sheened in the su… Liquid and cool in the shade of th… A pike dozed. Lost among the shadows of stems
He shouts in the sails of the ship… He steals the down from the honeyb… He makes the forest trees rustle a… He twirls my kite till it breaks i… Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Always we are following a light, Always the light recedes; with gro… We stretch toward this glory, whil… We journey through are hidden from… Dim and mysterious, folded deep in…
But why did I kill him? Why? Why… In the small, gilded room, near th… My ears rack and throb with his cr… And his eyes goggle under his hair… As my fingers sink into the fair
Send sunflowers! With my turkey-bone whistle I am calling the birds To sing upon the sunflowers. For when the clouds hear them sing…