One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…

A three-day-long rain from the eas… an terminable talking, talking of no consequence—patter, patter,… Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.

Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey and— In the tall, dried grasses

Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway

Light hearted William twirled his November moustaches and, half dressed, looked from the bedroom window upon the spring weather.

First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write– Let us acknowledge it– Men would be silent.

Not because of his eyes, the eyes of a bird, but because he is beaked, birdlike, to do an injury, has the turtle attracted you.

These are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night

SORROW is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire

While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on

Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…

A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing

Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…