#AmericanWriters
At the end of my suffering there was a door. Hear me out: that which you call d… I remember. Overhead, noises, branches of the…
There was an apple tree in the yar… this would have been forty years ago—behind, only meadows. Drifts of crocus in the damp grass.
It came to me one night as I was… that I had finished with those amo… to which I had long been a slave.… my heart murmured. To which I res… awaited us, hoping, at the same ti…
Late December: my father and I are going to New York, to the cir… He holds me on his shoulders in the bitter win… scraps of white paper
Little soul, little perpetually un… Do now as I bid you, climb The shelf-like branches of the spr… Wait at the top, attentive, like A sentry or look-out. He will be…
There were others; their bodies were a preparation. I have come to see it as that. As a steam of cries. So much pain in the world - the fo…
One summer she goes into the field… stopping for a bit at the pool whe… looks at herself, to see if she detects any changes. She se… the same person, the horrible mant…
A dove lived in a village. When it opened its mouth sweetness came out, sound like a silver light around the cherry bough. But
In our family, there were two sain… my aunt and my grandmother. But their lives were different. My grandmother’s was tranquil, eve… She was like a person walking in c…
As I perceive I am dying now and know I will not speak again, will not survive the earth, be summoned out of it again, not
You want to know how I spend my t… I walk the front lawn, pretending to be weeding. You ought to know I’m never weeding, on my knees, pu… clumps of clover from the flower b…
Even now this landscape is assembl… The hills darken. The oxen Sleep in their blue yoke, The fields having been Picked clean, the sheaves
Night covers the pond with its win… Under the ringed moon I can make… your face swimming among minnows a… echoing stars. In the night air the surface of the pond is metal.
When I made you, I loved you. Now I pity you. I gave you all you needed: bed of earth, blanket of blue air— As I get further away from you
Small light in the sky appearing suddenly between two pine boughs, their fine needle… now etched onto the radiant surfac… and above this