#Americans
SLEEP is a maker of makers. Birds sleep. Feet cling to a perch. Look at the balance. Let the legs loosen, the backbone untwist, the head go heavy over, the whole works tumbles a done bi...
AMONG the bumble-bees in red-top… I read your heart in a book. And your mouth of blue pansy—I kn… And I have seen a woman with her… And the blue pansy mouth sang to t…
THIN sheets of blue smoke among white slabs … near the shingle mill … winter morning. Falling of a dry leaf might be heard … circular steel tears through a log. Slope of woodland … ...
THESE are the tawny days: your f… The grapes take on purple: the sun… The bashful mornings hurl gray mis… Creep, silver on the field, the fr… Run on, yellow balls on the hills,…
HOW much do you love me, a millio… Oh, a lot more than that, Oh, a l… And to-morrow maybe only half a bu… To-morrow maybe not even a half a… And is this your heart arithmetic?
ABOWSKY’S place is on a side street and only the rain washes the dusty three balls. When I passed the window a month ago, there rested in proud isolation: A family bible with hasps ...
And so to-day—they lay him away— the boy nobody knows the name of– the buck private—the unknown soldi… the doughboy who dug under and die… when they told him to– that’s him.
I REMEMBER once I ran after y… shirt of you in the wind. Once many days ago I drank a glas… the picture of you shivered and sl… stuff.
ELSIE FLIMMERWON, you got a… The houses go wild when you finish… It is long ago, Elsie Flimmerwon,… It is long ago, Elsie, and now th… Then you were a little thing in ch…
On up the sea slant, On up the horizon, The ship limps. The bone of her nose fog-gray, The heart of her sea-strong,
ON the lips of the child Janet fl… It is a thin spiral of blue smoke, A morning campfire at a mountain l… On the lips of the child Janet, Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn…
NANCY HANKS dreams by the fir… Dreams, and the logs sputter, And the yellow tongues climb. Red lines lick their way in flicke… Oh, sputter, logs.
FASTEN black eyes on me. I ask nothing of you under the pea… Fasten your black eyes in my gray… The air under the peach blossoms i…
I will read ashes for you, if you… I will look on the fire and tell y… And out of the red and black tongu… I will tell how fire comes And how fire runs far as the sea.
THE RIVER is gold under a suns… It is a molten gold someone pours… A woman mixing a wedding cake of b… Knows what the sunset is pouring o… The river twists in a letter S.