#AmericanWriters
Once upon a time I was sitting ou… watching twilight in Umbria when a… out of the bakery with the bread h… She did not know what to do. Alre… by being thirteen and just that su…
There was no water at my grandfath… when I was a kid and would go for… with two zinc buckets. Down the pa… past the cow by the foundation whe… the fine people’s house was before
The Poles rode out from Warsaw ag… Tanks on horses. Rode knowing, in… A magnitude of beauty that allows… And yet this poem would lessen tha… The bravery. Say it’s not courage…
In the small towns along the river nothing happens day after long day… Summer weeks stalled forever, and long marriages always the same… Lives with only emergencies, birth…
Suddenly this defeat. This rain. The blues gone gray And the browns gone gray And yellow
Thrushes flying over the lake. Ni… Yes, my King. Paris hungry and le… America falling into history. Yes… along the Seine when I was always…
The fox pushes softly, blindly thr… between the liver and the stomach.… and hesitates. Considers and then… Trying to escape the mildness of o… Goes deeper, searching for what re…
Every morning the sad girl brings… and two lambs laggardly to the top… past my stone hut and onto the mou… She turned twelve last year and it… for the father to take her out of…
There is always the harrowing by m… the strafing by age, he thinks. Al… Sorrows come like epidemics. But… in the difficult way adults want t… It is worth having the heart broke…
Love is apart from all things. Desire and excitement are nothing… It is not the body that finds love… What leads us there is the body. What is not love provokes it.
We find out the heart only by dism… the heart knows. By redefining the… we find a morning that comes just… We can break through marriage into… By insisting on love we spoil it,…
How astonishing it is that languag… and frightening that it does not q… God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we… Get it wrong. We say bread and it… to which nation. French has no wor…
Everyone forgets that Icarus also… It’s the same when love comes to a… or the marriage fails and people s… they knew it was a mistake, that e… said it would never work. That she…
I call it exile, or being relegate… I call it the provinces. And all the time it is my heart. My imperfect heart which prefers this distance from people. Prefers
Our heart wanders lost in the dark… Our dream wrestles in the castle o… But there’s music in us. Hope is… but the angel flies up again takin… The summer mornings begin inch by…
