(1916)
#AmericanWriters
In the flashes and black shadows of July the days, locked in each other’s a… seem still so that squirrels and colored bird…
Flowers through the window lavender and yellow changed by white curtains— Smell of cleanliness— Sunshine of late afternoon—
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the waste of broad, muddy fields
I feel the caress of my own finger… on my own neck as I place my colla… and think pityingly of the kind women I have known.
Light hearted William twirled his November moustaches and, half dressed, looked from the bedroom window upon the spring weather.
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
Pour the wine bridegroom where before you the bride is enthroned her hair loose at her temples a head of ripe wheat is on
A power-house in the shape of a red brick chair 90 feet high on the seat of which
There were some dirty plates and a glass of milk beside her on a small table near the rank, disheveled bed— Wrinkled and nearly blind
According to Brueghel when Icarus fell it was spring a farmer was ploughing his field
The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go
Why go further? One might conceivably rectify the rhythm, study all out and arrive at the perfection of a tiger lily or a china doorknob. One might lift all out of the ruck, be a w...
Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…
The murderer’s little daughter who is barely ten years old jerks her shoulders right and left so as to catch a glimpse of me
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated ate and sang