from Sword Blades & Poppy Seed
#Americans #Lesbian #PulitzerPrize #Women
A yellow band of light upon the st… Pours from an open door, and makes… Pathway of bright gold across a sh… Of calm and liquid moonshine. Fro… Come shouts and streams of laughte…
Like black ice Scrolled over with unintelligible… by an ignorant skater Is the dulled surface of my heart.
On winter nights beside the nurser… We read the fairy tale, while glow… Builded its pictures. There befor… We saw the vaulted hall of traceri… Uprear itself, the distant ceiling…
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-tub in ...
Send sunflowers! With my turkey-bone whistle I am calling the birds To sing upon the sunflowers. For when the clouds hear them sing…
Before me lies a mass of shapeless… Unseparated atoms, and I must Sort them apart and live them. Si… Covers the formless heap. Repriev… There are none, ever. As a monk w…
Beneath this sod lie the remains Of one who died of growing pains.
Dearest, forgive that with my clum… I broke and bruised your rose. I hardly could suppose It were a thing so fragile that my… Could kill it, thus.
Red slippers in a shop-window; and outside in the street, flaws of gray, windy sleet! Behind the polished glass the slippers hang in long threads of red, festooning from the ceiling li...
Swirl of crowded streets. Shock a… brick facade of an old church, aga… lurch and withdraw. Flare of sunsh… in the windows of chemists’ shops,… darting colours far into the crowd…
You glow in my heart Like the flames of uncontrolled ca… But when I go to warm my hands, My clumsiness overturns the light, and then I stumble
The Poet took his walking-stick Of fine and polished ebony. Set in the close-grained wood Were quaint devices; Patterns in ambers,
A little garden on a bleak hillsid… Where deep the heavy, dazzling mou… Lies far into the spring. The sun… Is scarcely able to melt patches w… About the single rose bush. All d…
Goaded and harassed in the factory That tears our life up into bits o… Ticked off upon a clock which neve… Shredding our portion of Eternity… We break away at last, and steal t…
It winds along the face of a cliff This path which I long to explore… And over it dashes a waterfall, And the air is full of the roar And the thunderous voice of waters…