#Americans #Modernism
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees
The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last
Go to sleep—though of course you w… to tideless waves thundering slant… strong embankments, rattle and swi… dashed thirty feet high, caught by… scattered and strewn broadcast in…
When the snow falls the flakes spi… that concerns them most intimately two and two to make a dance the mind dances with itself, taking you by the hand,
Light hearted William twirled his November moustaches and, half dressed, looked from the bedroom window upon the spring weather.
"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—
Why go further? One might conceivably rectify the rhythm, study all out and arrive at the perfection of a tiger lily or a china doorknob. One might lift all out of the ruck, be a worthy...
This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
These are the desolate, dark weeks when nature in its barrenness equals the stupidity of man. The year plunges into night
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
It was an icy day. We buried the cat, then took her box and set fire to it in the back yard.
When over the flowery, sharp pastu… edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flower… but color and the movement—or the…