This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with

While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on

I will teach you my towns… how to perform a funeral… for you have it over a tr… of artists— unless one should scour t…

I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge

Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring flowers…

Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow! It is not a color. It is summer! It is the wind on a willow, the lap of waves, the shadow

School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the stre… to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold

A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing

Paterson lies in the valley under… its spent waters forming the outli… lies on his right side, head near… of the waters filling his dreams!… his dreams walk about the city whe…

From the Nativity which I have already celebrated the Babe in its Mother’s arms the Wise Men in their stolen splendor

Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.

You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!

The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which