#AmericanWriters
In her room at the prow of the hou… Where light breaks, and the window… My daughter is writing a story. I pause in the stairwell, hearing From her shut door a commotion of…
Securely sunning in a forest glade… A mild, well-meaning snake Approved the adaptations he had ma… For safety’s sake. He liked the skin he had—
It’s not the case, though some mig… Who from a window watch the blizza… White riot through their branches… That they keep snug beneath their… They take affliction in until it j…
A Milkweed Anonymous as cherubs Over the crib of God, White seeds are floating Out of my burst pod.
The eyelids meet. He’ll catch a l… The grizzled, crew-cut head drops… It shakes above the briefcase on h… Close voices breathe, “Poor sweet… “Poor sweet, poor sweet,” the bird…
It is a cramped little state with… Save to be thought inoffensive. T… Has never been fathomed, owing to… Of allowing each sentence to trail… Those who have visited Scusi, the…
I read how Quixote in his random… Came to a crossing once, and lest… The purity of chance, would not de… Whither to fare, but wished his ho… For glory lay wherever turned the…
Shall I love God for causing me t… I was mere utterance; shall these… Yet when I caused His work to jar… And one free subject loosened all… I love Him that He did not in a r…
The horse beneath me seemed To know what course to steer Through the horror of snow I drea… And so I had no fear, Nor was I chilled to death
R.Frost 100th B’day The air was soft, the ground still… In wet dull pastures where I stro… Was something I could not believe… Dead grass appeared to slide and h…
When you come, as you soon must, t… Mad-eyed from stating the obvious, Not proclaiming our fall but beggi… In God’s name to have self-pity, Spare us all word of the weapons,…
Dream fluently, still brothers, wh… Took with your mother’s milk the m… In which pure matrix, joining worl… You strove to leave some line of v… Like still fresh tracks across a f…
A toad the power mower caught, Chewed and clipped of a leg, with… To the garden verge, and sanctuari… Under the cineraria leaves, in the… Of the ashen and heartshaped leave…
St. John tells how, at Cana’s wed… The water-pots poured wine in such… That by his sober count There were a hundred gallons at th… It made no earthly sense, unless t…
Your voice, with clear location of… Called me outside the window.You… Light yet composed, as in the just… Of uncontested summer all things r… Plainly their seeming into seamles…