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Elizabeth Bishop

Elizabeth Bishop

Sonnet (1979)

Caught —the bubble
in the spirit level,
a creature divided;
and the compass needle
wobbling and wavering,
undecided.
Freed —the broken
thermometer’s mercury
running away;
and the rainbow—bird
from the narrow bevel
of the empty mirror,
flying wherever
it feels like, gay!

(1979)

#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Women

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Other works by Elizabeth Bishop...
Sestina

September rain falls on the house. In the failing light, the old gran… sits in the kitchen with the child beside the Little Marvel Stove, reading the jokes from the almanac…
Love Lies Sleeping

Earliest morning, switching all th… that cross the sky from cinder sta… coupling the ends of streets to trains of light. now draw us into daylight in our b…
North Haven

I can make out the rigging of a sc… a mile off; I can count the new cones on the spruce. It is… the pale bay wears a milky skin; t… no clouds except for one long, car…
Invitation to Miss Marianne Moore

From Brooklyn, over the Brooklyn… please come flying. In a cloud of fiery pale chemicals… please come flying, to the rapid rolling of thousands…
Proud rooster, by Jan van Oolen
Roosters

At four o’clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the firs… just below the gun-metal blue window
In the Waiting Room

In Worcester, Massachusetts, I went with Aunt Consuelo to keep her dentist’s appointment and sat and waited for her in the dentist’s waiting room.
At the Fishhouses

Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in the gloaming almost in… a dark purple—brown,
Visits to St Elizabeths

This is the house of Bedlam. This is the man that lies in the house of Bedlam. This is the time of the tragic man
The Bight

At low tide like this how sheer th… White, crumbling ribs of marl prot… and the boats are dry, the pilings… Absorbing, rather than being absor… the water in the bight doesn’t wet…
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The End of March

It was cold and windy, scarcely th… to take a walk on that long beach Everything was withdrawn as far as… indrawn: the tide far out, the oce… seabirds in ones or twos.
The Monument

Now can you see the monument? It… built somewhat like a box. No. Bu… like several boxes in descending s… one above the other. Each is turned half—way round so t…
Trouvée

Oh, why should a hen have been run over on West 4th Street in the middle of summer? She was a white hen
The Moose

From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea twice a day and takes
Sleeping on the Ceiling

It is so peaceful on the ceiling! It is the Place de la Concorde. The little crystal chandelier is off, the fountain is in the dar… Not a soul is in the park.
Poem

About the size of an old—style dol… American or Canadian, mostly the same whites, gray green… —this little painting (a sketch fo… has never earned any money in its…



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