#AmericanWriters
I sought among the drifting leaves… The golden leaves that once were g… To see if Love were hiding there And peeping out between. For thro’ the silver showers of M…
MY forefathers gave me My spirit’s shaken flame, The shape of hands, the beat of he… The letters of my name. But it was my lovers,
I understood the rest too well, And all their thoughts have come t… Clear as grey sea-weed in the swel… Of a sunny shallow sea. But you I never understood,
I thought of you and how you love… And walking up the long beach all… I heard the waves breaking in meas… As you and I once heard their mon… Around me were the echoing dunes,…
ATOMS as old as stars, Mutation on mutation, Millions and millions of cells Dividing yet still the same, From air and changing earth,
I WATCH the great clear twiligh… Veiling the ice-bowed trees; Their branches tinkle faintly With crystal melodies. The larches bend their silver
I saw her in a Broadway car, The woman I might grow to be; I felt my lover look at her And then turn suddenly to me. Her hair was dull and drew no ligh…
Out of the delicate dream of the d… Veiled in the violet folds of the… Softly the dream grows awakening—s… Splashes of crimson, the gay bouga… High in the infinite blue of its h…
The shining line of motors, The swaying motor-bus, The prancing dancing horses Are passing by for us. The sunlight on the steeple,
SO long as my spirit still Is glad of breath And lifts its plumes of pride In the dark face of death; While I am curious still
God let me listen to your voice, And look upon you for a space— And then he took your voice away, And dropped a veil before your fac… God let me look within your eyes,
It is enough for me by day To walk the same bright earth with… Enough that over us by night The same great roof of stars is di… I have no care to bind the wind
INTO my heart’s treasury I slipped a coin That time cannot take Nor a thief purloin,— Oh better than the minting
“She can’t be unhappy,” you said, “The smiles are like stars in her… And her laughter is thistledown Around her low replies.” “Is she unhappy?” you said—
AT six o’clock of an autumn dusk With the sky in the west a rusty r… The bells of the mission down in t… Cry out that the day is dead. The first star pricks as sharp as…