Rock-a-by baby, woolly and brown’€… (There’s a shout at the door an’ a… Lil’ coon baby, mammy is down’€¦ Han’s that hold yuh are steady an’… Look piccaninny - such a gran’ bla…

You can see the sandhills from our… Butterflies live in the sandhills and lizards and centipedes.

(Easter 1916) Censored lies that mimic truth’€¦ Censored truth as pale as fear’€¦ My heart is like a rousing bell - And but the dead to hear’€¦

I would be a torch unto your hand, A lamp upon your forehead, Labor, In the wild darkness before the D… That I shall never see… We shall advance together, my Bel…

Bountiful Givers, I look along the years And see the flowers you threw’€¦ Anemones And sprigs of gray

Dance, little children... it is ho… Have you hung paper flowers about… Dance soft . . . but very gaily...… Spread your little pinafores And courtesy as the snow does . .…

Your love was like moonlight turning harsh things to beauty, so that little wry souls reflecting each other obliquely as in cracked mirrors’€¦ beheld in your luminous spirit their own r...

—Albert Parsons went to his death singing Annie Laurie; didn’t another have a rose in his coat–

Indigo bulb of darkness Punctured by needle lights Through a fissure of brick canyon… And a sliver of moon Spigoting two high windows over th…

Skyscrapers... remote, unpartisan.… Turning neither to the right nor l… Your imperturbable fronts.... Austerely greeting the sun With one chilly finger of stone...…

That day, in the slipping of torso… on the bloodied ooze of fields plo… And the smoke bluish near earth an… floating like cotton-down, And the harsh and terrible screami…

I have known only my own shallows… Safe, plumbed places, Where I was wont to preen myself. But for the abyss I wanted a plank beneath

I remember The crackle of the palm trees Over the mooned white roofs of the… The shining town’€¦ And the tender fumbling of the sur…

I wonder how it would be here with you, where the wind that has shaken off its dust in lo… touches one cleanly,

Cherry, cherry, glowing on the hearth, bright red cherry... When you try to pick up cherry Celia’s shriek