#Americans #PulitzerPrice #XIXCentury #XXCentury
THE DOWN drop of the blackbird, The wing catch of arrested flight, The stop midway and then off: off… This is April’s way: a woman: ‘O yes, I’m here again and your h…
MY people are gray, pigeon gray, dawn gray, storm gray… I call them beautiful, and I wonder where they are going.
IN the morning, a Sunday morning, shadows of sea and adumbrants of rock in her eyes... horseback in leather boots and leather gauntlets by the sea. In the evening, a Sunday evening, a r...
What does a hangman think about When he goes home at night from wo… When he sits down with his wife an… Children for a cup of coffee and a Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask
IF we were such and so, the same… maybe we too would be slingers and… tumbling half over in the water mi… tumbling half over at the horse he… tumbling our purple numbers.
I shall be eaten by gray creepers in a bunkhouse where no runners of the sun come and no dogs live. And yet-of all 'and yets’ this is the bronze strongest– I shall keep one thing better...
THE SEA rocks have a green moss… The pine rocks have red berries. I have memories of you. Speak to me of how you miss me. Tell me the hours go long and slow…
‘I KNEW a real man once,’ says… Did a man touch his lips to Agath… Agatha, far past forty in a splend…
THE WISHES on this child’s mou… Came like snow on marsh cranberrie… The tamarack kept something for he… The wind is ready to help her shoe… The north has loved her; she will…
THE SHEETS of night mist trave… I know why you came at sundown in… What was it we touched asking noth… How many times can death come and… In the oath of the sod, the lips t…
HOW many feet ran with sunlight,… What little devils shaken of laugh… Fixed this lone red tulip, a woman… Who hurled this bomb of red caress… Love me before I die;
MRS. GABRIELLE GIOVANNI… every morning at nine o’clock With kindling wood piled on top of… looking straight ahead to find the… Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Pietro…
(Handbook for Quarreling Lovers)I THOUGHT of offering you apothegms. I might have said, ‘Dogs bark and the wind carries it away.’ I might have said, ‘He who would make a door of gold mu...
COME you, cartoonists, Hang on a strap with me here At seven o’clock in the morning On a Halsted street car. Take your pencils
Gather the stars if you wish it so… Gather the songs and keep them. Gather the faces of women. Gather for keeping years and years… And then . . .
