#Americans #PulitzerPrize
On a parking lot staircase I met two fine-looking men descending, both in slacks and dress shirts, neckties much alike, one of the men
Cards in each mailbox, angel, manger, star and lamb, as the rural carrier, driving the snowy roads, hears from her bundles
Beside the highway, the Giant Sli… with its rusty undulations lifts out of the weeds. It hasn’t been u… for a generation. The ticket booth tilts to that side where the nicke…
Circling above us, their wingtips fanned like fingers, it is as if they wer… one of those tissue-paper sewing p… over the pale blue fabric of the a…
What once was meant to be a statem… a dripping dagger held in the fist of a shuddering heart—is now just… on a bony old shoulder, the spot where vanity once punched him hard
In her eighties now, and weak and… with emphysema, my aunt sends me a birthday card-a tossing ocean with clipper ship-and wishes me we… at forty-four. She’s included
I have seen the Brown Recluse Sp… run with a net in her hand, or rat… what resembled a net, what resembl… a hand. She ran down the gleaming… of the bathtub, trailing a frail s…
Slap of the screen door, flat knoc… of my grandmother’s boxy black sho… on the wooden stoop, the hush and… of her knob-kneed, cotton-aproned… out to the edge and then, toed in
They have set aside their black ti… scratched and dented, spattered with drops of pink and b… and their dried-up, rolled-up tube… of alizarin crimson, chrome green,
On the floor of a parking garage I found a dead mouse. It was wint… the world gone gray outside and in… and the mouse a part of all that d… the smallest part. He stood
The gravel road rides with a slow… over the fields, the telephone lin… streaming behind, its billow of du… full of the sparks of redwing blac… On either side, those dear old lad…
She had turned her face up into a rain of light, and came on smili… The light trickled down her forehe… and into her eyes. It ran down into the neck of her sweatshirt
It’s a kitchen. Its curtains fill with a morning light so bright you can’t see beyond its windows into the afternoon. A kitchen falling through time with its thin…
You lie in your bed and sigh, and the springs deep in the mattre… sing out with the same low note, mocking your sadness. It’s hard— not the mattress, but life.
The wall of identical boxes into w… our Aunt Sticky sorted the daily… was at the far end of her dining r… and from the private side looked l… a fancy wallpaper upon which peoni…