#AmericanWriters
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
89 Some things that fly there be— Birds—Hours—the Bumblebee— Of these no Elegy. Some things that stay there be—
XLIX WE outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer, Till it an antique fashion shows Like costumes grandsires wore.
298 Alone, I cannot be— For Hosts—do visit me— Recordless Company— Who baffle Key—
595 Like Mighty Foot Lights’—burned… At Bases of the Trees’— The far Theatricals of Day Exhibiting’—to These’—
My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…
No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word—just—
220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?
385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—
78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
The Snow that never drifts - The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now - So thorough in the Tree
403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—
865 He outstripped Time with but a Bo… He outstripped Stars and Sun And then, unjaded, challenged God In presence of the Throne.