#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
IN Warsaw in Poland Half the world away, The one I love best of all Thought of me to-day; I know, for I went
My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers
Your eyes drink of me, Love makes them shine, Your eyes that lean So close to mine. We have long been lovers,
Inside the tiny Pantheon We stood together silently, Leaving the restless crowsd awhile… As ships find shelter from the sea… The ancient centuries came back
IN the silver light after a storm… Under dripping boughs of bright ne… I take the low path to hear the me… Alone and high-hearted as if I we… What have I to fear in life or de…
As the waves of perfume, heliotrop… Float in the garden when no wind b… Come to us, go from us, whence no… So the old tunes float in my mind, And go from me leaving no trace be…
SINCE there is no escape, since… My body will be utterly destroyed, This hand I love as I have loved… This body I tended, wept with and… Since there is no escape even for…
I shall bury my weary Love Beneath a tree, In the forest tall and black Where none can see. I shall put no flowers at his head…
They never saw my lover’s face, They only know our love was brief, Wearing awhile a windy grace And passing like an autumn leaf. They wonder why I do not weep,
In my heart the old love Struggled with the new; It was ghostly waking All night thru. Dear things, kind things,
To-night I close my eyes and see A strange procession passing me— The years before I saw your face Go by me with a wistful grace; They pass, the sensitive shy years…
You go a long and lovely journey, For all the stars, like burning de… Are luminous and luring footprints Of souls adventurous as you. Oh, if you lived on earth elated,
Brown Thrush singing all day long In the leaves above me, Take my love this little song, “Love me, love me, love me!” When he harkens what you say,
I am free of love as a bird flying… Swift and intent, asking no joy fr… Glad to forget all of the passion… Ere it was love-free. I am free of love, and I listen t…
I have loved hours at sea, gray ci… The fragile secret of a flower, Music, the making of a poem That gave me heaven for an hour; First stars above a snowy hill,