#Activities #AmericanWriters #MoneyAndEconomics #SocialCommentaries
Mr T. bareheaded in a soiled undershirt his hair standing out on all sides
If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the
This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which
Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…
It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.
I stopped the car to let the children down where the streets end in the sun at the marsh edge
Rather notice, mon cher, that the moon is titled above the point of the steeple than that its color
Disciplined by the artist to go round and round in holiday gear a riotously gay rabble of
Light hearted William twirled his November moustaches and, half dressed, looked from the bedroom window upon the spring weather.
You Communists and Republicans! all you Germans and Frenchmen! you corpses and quickeners! The stars are about to melt and fall on you in tears.
Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees