(1948)
#Americans
The wind billowing out the seat of… My feet crackling splinters of gla… The half-grown chrysanthemums star… Up through the streaked glass, fla… A few white clouds all rushing eas…
Now as the train bears west, Its rhythm rocks the earth, And from my Pullman berth I stare into the night While others take their rest.
The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans
I remember the neckcurls, limp and… And her quick look, a sidelong pic… And how, once started into talk, t… And she balanced in the delight of… A wren, happy, tail into the wind,
What’s greater, Pebble or Pond? What can be known? The Unknown. My true self runs toward a Hill More! O More! visible. Now I adore my life
A shell arched under my toes, Stirred up by a whirl of silt That rifted around my knees. Whatever I owed to time slowed in… Sea water stood in my veins,
The fruit rolled by all day. They prayed the cogs would creep; They thought about Saturday pay, And Sunday sleep. Whatever he smelled was good:
In Saginaw, in Saginaw, The wind blows up your feet, When the ladies’ guild puts on a f… There’s beans on every plate, And if you eat more than you shoul…
By day the bat is cousin to the mo… He likes the attic of an aging hou… His fingers make a hat about his h… His pulse beat is so slow we think… He loops in crazy figures half the…
Where were the greenhouses going, Lunging into the lashing Wind driving water So far down the river All the faucets stopped?—
Against the stone breakwater, Only an ominous lapping, While the wind whines overhead, Coming down from the mountain, Whistling between the arbors, the…
I was always one for being alone, Seeking in my own way, eternal pur… At the edge of the field waiting f… Standing, silent, on sandy beaches… Knowing the sinuousness of small w…
In a shoe box stuffed in an old ny… Sleeps the baby mouse I found in… Where he trembled and shook beneat… Till I caught him up by the tail… Cradled in my hand,
I wake to sleep, and take my wakin… I feel my fate in what I cannot f… I learn by going where I have to… We think by feeling. What is ther… I hear my being dance from ear to…
I saw a young snake glide Out of the mottled shade And hang, limp on a stone: A thin mouth, and a tongue Stayed, in the still air.