#Americans #PulitzerPrize #1942 #AWitnessTree
(Microscopic) A speck that would have been benea… On any but a paper sheet so white Set off across what I had written… And I had idly poised my pen in a…
In a Vermont bedroom closet With a door of two broad boards And for back wall a crumbling old… (And that’s what their toes are to… I have a pair of shoes standing,
God made a beatous garden With lovely flowers strown, But one straight, narrow pathway That was not overgrown. And to this beauteous garden
They sent him back to her. The le… Saying... And she could have him.… She could be sure there was no hid… Under the formal writing, he was i… Living. They gave him back to her…
The old dog barks backwards withou… I can remember when he was a pup.
`You know Orion always comes up s… Throwing a leg up over our fence o… And rising on his hands, he looks… Busy outdoors by lantern—light wit… I should have done by daylight, an…
At the end of the row I stepped on the toe Of an unemployed hoe. It rose in offense And struck me a blow
Now close the windows and hush all… If the trees must, let them silent… No bird is singing in them now, an… Be it my loss. It will be long ere the marshes re…
Pan came out of the woods one day,…
I WALKED down alone Sunday aft… To the place where John has been… To see for myself about the birch He said I could have to bush my p… The sun in the new-cut narrow gap
No ship of all that under sail or… Have gathered people to us more an… But Pilgrim-manned the Mayflower… Has been her anxious convoy in to…
The west was getting out of gold, The breath of air had died of cold… When shoeing home across the white… I thought I saw a bird alight. In summer when I passed the place
You were forever finding some new… So when I saw you down on hands a… In the meadow, busy with the new-c… Trying, I thought, to set it up o… I went to show you how to make it…
There is a singer everyone has hea… Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood… Who makes the solid tree trunks so… He says that leaves are old and th… Mid-summer is to spring as one to…
When the spent sun throws up its r… And goes down burning into the gul… No voice in nature is heard to cry… At what has happened. Birds, at l… It is the change to darkness in th…