#Americans #Women
Sap stirs near me, roots stretch a… Sundering stones. And rivers waken, start in monoton… Their later tunes. Oaks bend their knotted knees
In the old days At barn raisings After they worked together They danced together. So lay the floor, Americans,
Expand, accustomed world No longer mean and small, Tight code, mean mind, crude dream… With ghost pioneers we see Horizons
Harsh, unuttered thunder Stood like a stone wall Above the marsh’s silver line. Crooked cranes, white as lightning… Flattened for an instant, flashing…
Other hearts have broken gracefull… And now your eyes reproach me that… Is awkward, and my arms Are angular across my breast Where emptiness is pressed.
Up that thin river, going over san… Down that deep river, purple to th… My fingers fire; cool your quiet h… And your voice sad, and mine the a… So, silver-thin, the flute-like ru…
Red is the mouth of Pele, passion… Against the fires of the kindling… Fire to fire moves: the heavens wa… As low to earth comes crimson-drip… They kiss in thunder, shudder, suf…
Never heard happier laughter. Where did you hear it? Somwhere in the future. Very far in the future? No, not far, but near. American
In that day Everyone will sing, Everyone will play in that day; There will be carolling. You will make poems for your neigh…
Swing, swing, and swoon, Morning, evening, noon, And with night, sleep. If you must, weep– But here, here with me.
A middle class fortress in which t… Draw down the curtain as if saying… While noon’s ablaze, ablaze outsid… And outside people work and sweat And the day clings by and the hard…
You are no more, but sunken in a s… Sheer into dream, ten thousand lea… And now you lie green-golden, whil… Swings with the tide, my heart: an… Till I look down, and wavering, t…
Withhold your breath! Heavy in noon, and sleepy as slow… Garden of sweets and sours, The cluster of my body hangs Odorous with flowers:
Noiselessly the planets will blow… Like smoke, like breath, like driv… Frost-bitten suns on on, on on wil… Over earth’s curve, the moons, lik… Making no noise and only vague sha…
Men go to women mutely for their p… And they, who lack it most, create… They make–because they must, lovin… A solace for sad bosom-bended head… Is all the meager peace men get–no…