#1942 #AmericanWriters #AWitnessTree #PulitzerPrize
When a friend calls to me from the… And slows his horse to a meaning w… I don’t stand still and look aroun… On all the hills I haven’t hoed, And shout from where I am, What i…
A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to… For a poem there used to be on Sp… I tried to tell her “There’s no s… For whom would a poem on Spring b…
There were three in the meadow by… Gathering up windrows, piling hayc… With an eye always lifted toward t… Where an irregular, sun-bordered c… Darkly advanced with a perpetual d…
The house had gone to bring again To the midnight sky a sunset glow. Now the chimney was all of the hou… Like a pistil after the petals go The barn opposed across the way,
The land was ours before we were t… She was our land more than a hundr… Before we were her people. She wa… In Massachusetts, in Virginia, But we were England’s, still colo…
But outer Space, At least this far, For all the fuss Of the populace Stays more popular
A dented spider like a snow drop w… On a white Heal-all, holding up a… Like a white piece of lifeless sat… Saw ever curious eye so strange a… Portent in little, assorted death…
ONCE on the kind of day called “… When the heat slowly hazes and the… By its own power seems to be undon… I was half boring through, half cl… A swamp of cedar. Choked with oil…
Love has earth to which she clings With hills and circling arms about… Wall within wall to shut fear out. But Thought has need of no such t… For Thought has a pair of dauntle…
The buzz—saw snarled and rattled i… And made dust and dropped stove—le… Sweet—scented stuff when the breez… And from there those that lifted e… Five mountain ranges one behind th…
There overtook me and drew me in To his down-hill, early-morning st… And set me five miles on my road Better than if he had had me ride, A man with a swinging bag for load
Why make so much of fragmentary bl… In here and there a bird, or butte… Or flower, or wearing—stone, or op… When heaven presents in sheets the… Since earth is earth, perhaps, not…
I slumbered with your poems on my… Spread open as I dropped them hal… Like dove wings on a figure on a t… To see, if in a dream they brought… I might not have the chance I mis…
Where had I heard this wind befor… Change like this to a deeper roar? What would it take my standing the… Holding open a restive door, Looking down hill to a frothy shor…
I had withdrawn in forest, and my… Was swallowed up in leaves that bl… And to the forest edge you came on… (This was my dream) and looked and… But did not enter, though the wish…