PIETRO has twenty red and blue… They flutter and dance pulling Pi… A nickel apiece is what they sell… Wishing children tag Pietro’s hee… He sells out and goes the streets…

THE DOME of the capitol looks t… Out of haze over the sunset, Out of a smoke rose gold: One star shines over the sunset. Night takes the dome and the river…

THE SUMMER shirt sale of a downtown haberdasher is glorified in a show-window slang: everybody understands the language: red dots, yellow circles, blue anchors, and dove-brown hooks, th...

WOMEN of night life amid the lig… Where the line of your full, round… Matches in gleam the glint of your… And the ring of your heart-deep la… It is much to be warm and sure of…

AMONG the red guns, In the hearts of soldiers Running free blood In the long, long campaign: Dreams go on.

THE CHICK in the egg picks at… “Cheep … cheep … cheep” is the sal… “Cheep … cheep” … from oval to ova… It is at the door of this house, t… (In the academies many books, at t…

IN the newspaper office—who are t… Who wears the mythic coat invisibl… Who pussyfoots from desk to desk with a speaking forefinger? Who gumshoes amid the copy paper

THE working girls in the morning… long lines of them afoot amid the… and factories, thousands with litt… lunches wrapped in newspapers unde… Each morning as I move through th…

NIGHT from a railroad car window Is a great, dark, soft thing Broken across with slashes of ligh…

A MILLION young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads, And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh will in the years feed roots of blood-red ro...

OPEN the door now. Go roll up the collar of your coat To walk in the changing scarf of m… Tell your sins here to the pearl f… And know for once a deepening nigh…

STROLLING along By the teeming docks, I watch the ships put out. Black ships that heave and lunge And move like mastodons

CLOSE-MOUTHED you sat five t… let out a whisper. Processions came by, marchers, ask… answered with grey eyes never blin… never talking.

Every year Emily Dickinson sent o… the first arbutus bud in her garde… In a last will and testament Andr… remembered a friend with the gift… Washington’s pocket spy-glass.

THE child’s wonder At the old moon Comes back nightly. She points her finger To the far silent yellow thing