#AmericanWriters
I SHALL foot it Down the roadway in the dusk, Where shapes of hunger wander And the fugitives of pain go by. I shall foot it
THIS handful of grass, brown, says little. This quarter mile field of it, waving seeds ripening in the sun, is a lake of luminous firefly lavender. Prairie roses, two of them, climb dow...
I have been in Pennsylvania, In the Monongahela and Hocking V… In the blue Susquehanna On a Saturday morning I saw a mounted constabulary go by…
THE HIGH horses of the sea brok… On the walls that held and counted… The wind lasted. Two landbirds looked on and the no… Looked on and the wind poured cups…
THE SEA at its worst drives a w… The same sea sometimes so easy and… So you were there when the white f… And the salt spatter and the rack… You were done fingering these, and…
Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, b… one by one going up the hill and o… one four-footed pattering up and o… their stub tails as they take the… over—one by one silently unless fo…
THE PEACE of great doors be fo… Wait at the knobs, at the panel ob… Wait for the great hinges. The peace of great churches be for… Where the players of loft pipe org…
FOR the gladness here where the s… evening on the weeds at the river, Our prayer of thanks. For the laughter of children who t… bareheaded in the summer grass,
HERE is a face that says half-past seven the same way whether a murder or a wedding goes on, whether a funeral or a picnic crowd passes. A tall one I know at the end of a hallway broo...
They have painted and sung the women washing their hair, and the plaits and strands in the… and the golden combs and the combs of elephant tusks
ONCE when I saw a cripple Gasping slowly his last days with… Looking from hollow eyes, calling… Desperately gesturing with wasted… In the dark and dust of a house do…
SEVEN days all fog, all mist, an… I was a plaything, a rat’s neck in… Fog and fog and no stars, sun, moo… Then an afternoon in fjords, low-l… A night harbor, blue dusk mountain…
SMASH down the cities. Knock the walls to pieces. Break the factories and cathedrals… and homes Into loose piles of stone and lumb…
WHEN the jury files in to deliver a verdict after weeks of direct and cross examinations, hot clashes of lawyers and cool decisions of the judge, There are points of high silence—twid...
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…
