#AmericanWriters
You have spoken the answer. A child searches far sometimes Into the red dust On a dark rose leaf And so you have gone far
GOLD of a ripe oat straw, gold o… Canada thistle blue and flimmering… Tomatoes shining in the October s… Shining five and six in a row on a… Why do you keep wishes on your fac…
FLAT lands on the end of town where real estate men are crying new subdivisions, The sunsets pour blood and fire over you hundreds and hundreds of nights, flat lands—blood and fire of...
I LOVE your faces I saw the man… I drank your milk and filled my mo… With your home talk, slept in your… And was one of you. But a fire burns in my heart.
OUT of the fire Came a man sunken To less than cinders, A tea-cup of ashes or so. And I,
I shall be eaten by gray creepers in a bunkhouse where no runners of the sun come and no dogs live. And yet-of all 'and yets’ this is the bronze strongest– I shall keep one thing better...
or a man out of the ashes of false dawn muttering 'hot-dog’ to the night watchmen: Is there a spieler who has spoken the word or taken the number of night’s nothings? am I the spieler? ...
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...
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?
BETWEEN two hills The old town stands. The houses loom And the roofs and trees And the dusk and the dark,
THE child’s wonder At the old moon Comes back nightly. She points her finger To the far silent yellow thing
A MAN was crucified. He came to… was accused, and nailed to a cross… Laughed at the crowd. “The nails… said, “You are cheap. In my count… we use silver nails. . .” So he we…
SOMEBODY’S little girl-how eas… Somebody’s little girl-she played… It was somewhere on the Erie line… And out of her hair she shook the… Somebody’s little girl-forty littl…
A father sees his son nearing manh… What shall he tell that son? ‘Life is hard; be steel; be a rock… And this might stand him for the s… and serve him for humdrum monotony
SUNDAY night and the park polic… is dark as a stack of black cats o… A big picnic boat comes home to C… farms of Saugatuck. Hundreds of electric bulbs break t…