#Americans #Lesbian #PulitzerPrize #Women
MY thoughts Chink against my ribs And roll about like silver hail-st… I should like to spill them out, And pour them, all shining,
Did the door move, or was it alway… The gladioli on the table are pale… I smell pale mauve and blue, Blue soft like bruises—putrid—oozi… The air oozes blue—mauve—
High up in the apple tree climbing… With the sky above me, the earth b… Each branch is the step of a wonde… Which leads to the town I see shi… Climbing, climbing, higher and hig…
The path runs straight between the… A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds… Where phlox and marigolds dispute… With tall, red dahlias and the bri… 'T is reckless prodigality which t…
My corn is green with red tassels, I am praying to the lightning to r… I am praying to the thunder which… Corn is sweet where lightning has… I pray to the six-coloured clouds.
Throughout the echoing chambers of… I hear your words in mournful cade… Like some slow passing-bell which… Of sundering darkness. Unrelentin… To batter down resistance, fall ag…
White, glittering sunlight fills t… Spotted and sprigged with shadows.… Of bartering booths spread out the… Of globed and golden fruit, the mo… Smells sweet with ripeness, on the…
You are like the stem Of a young beech-tree, Straight and swaying, Breaking out in golden leaves. Your walk is like the blowing of a…
The fountain bent and straightened… In the night wind, Blowing like a flower. It gleamed and glittered, A tall white lily,
Tell me, Was Venus more beautiful Than you are, When she topped The crinkled waves,
The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The sunshine pours in at the bath-room window and bores through the water in the bath-...
Glinting golden through the trees, Apples of Hesperides! Through the moon-pierced warp of n… Shoot pale shafts of yellow light, Swaying to the kissing breeze
Alone, I whet my soul against the… Unwrinkled sky, with its long stre… I polish it with sunlight and pale… And damascene it with young blowin… Into the handle of my life I set
Over the shop where silk is sold Still the dragon kites are flying.
Good ev’nin’, Mis’ Priest. I jest stepped in to tell you Goo… Yes, it’s all over. All my things is packed An’ every last one o’ them boxes