That flower unseen, that gem of pu… Bright thoughts uncut by men: Strange that you need but speak th… And the mind skips and dives beyon… Finding at once the wild supposed…

Rabbi, we Gadarenes Are not ascetics; we are fond of w… Love, as You call it, we obviate… Of the planned release of aggressi… We have deep faith in properity.

The tall camels of the spirit Steer for their deserts, passing t… With the sawmill shrill of the loc… arid Sun. They are slow, proud,

One wading a Fall meadow finds on… The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like… On water; it glides So from the walker, it turns Dry grass to a lake, as the slight…

Where far in forest I am laid, In a place ringed around by stones… Look for no melancholy shade, And have no thoughts of buried bon… For I am bodiless and bright,

The good gray guardians of art Patrol the halls on spongy shoes, Impartially protective, though Perhaps suspicious of Toulouse. Here dozes one against the wall,

Sometimes, on waking, she would cl… For a last look at that white hous… In sleep alone, and held no title… And had not entered yet, for all h… What did she tell me of that house…

for Rene Magritte The carpenter’s made a hole In the parlor floor, and I’m stan… Staring down into it now At four o’clock in the evening,

For Alexander there was no Far E… Because he thought the Asian cont… India ended. Free Cathay at least Did not contribute to his disconte… But Newton, who had grasped all s…

In her room at the prow of the hou… Where light breaks, and the window… My daughter is writing a story. I pause in the stairwell, hearing From her shut door a commotion of…

The eyelids meet. He’ll catch a l… The grizzled, crew-cut head drops… It shakes above the briefcase on h… Close voices breathe, “Poor sweet… “Poor sweet, poor sweet,” the bird…

Now winter downs the dying of the… And night is all a settlement of s… From the soft street the rooms of… A gathered light, a shapen atmosph… Like frozen-over lakes whose ice i…

Sidling upon the river, the white… Has volleyed with its cannon all t… Shaken the shore towns like a Jud… Telling the palsied water its dema… That the crime come to the top aga…

St. John tells how, at Cana’s wed… The water-pots poured wine in such… That by his sober count There were a hundred gallons at th… It made no earthly sense, unless t…

I read how Quixote in his random… Came to a crossing once, and lest… The purity of chance, would not de… Whither to fare, but wished his ho… For glory lay wherever turned the…