#AmericanWriters
The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
Sooner or later we must come to the end of striving to re-establish the image the image of
While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on
I’ve fond anticipation of a day O’erfilled with pure diversion pre… For I must read a lady poesy The while we glide by many a leafy… Hid deep in rushes, where at rando…
The coroner’s merry little childre… Have such twinkling brown eyes. Their father is not of gay men And their mother jocular in no wis… Yet the coroner’s merry little chi…
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.
so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain
This is a schoolyard crowded with children of all ages near a village on a small stream
Winter is long in this climate and spring—a matter of a few days only,—a flower or two picked from mud or from among wet leaves or at best against treacherous
This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
School is over. It is too hot to walk at ease. At ease in light frocks they walk the stre… to while the time away. They have grown tall. They hold
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
The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge