MY people are gray, pigeon gray, dawn gray, storm gray.I call them beautiful, and I wonder where they are going.
Posts published by “suprusr”
BECAUSE I have called to youas the flame flamingo calls,or the want of a spotted hawkis called- because in the duskthe warblers shoot the runningwaters of short songs to thehomecoming warblers- becausethe…
Once when I saw a crippleGasping slowly his last days with the white plague,Looking from hollow eyes, calling for air,Desperately gesturing with wasted handsIn the dark and dust of a…
The long beautiful night of the wind and rain in April,The long night hanging down from the drooping branches of the top of a birch tree,Swinging, swaying, to the wind…
PEA pods cling to stems.Neponset, the village,Clings to the Burlington railway main line.Terrible midnight limiteds roar throughHauling sleepers to the Rockies and Sierras.The earth is slightly shakenAnd Neponset trembles slightly…
BAND concert public square Nebraska city. Flowing and circling dresses, summer-white dresses. Faces, flesh tints flung like sprays of cherry blossoms. And gigglers, God knows, gigglers, rivaling the pony whinnies…
“I KNEW a real man once,” says Agatha in the splendor of a shagbark hickory tree. Did a man touch his lips to Agatha? Did a man hold her in his…
(March, 1919)A LIAR goes in fine clothes.A liar goes in rags.A liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes.A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells…
WHAT was the name you called me?-And why did you go so soon? The crows lift their caw on the wind,And the wind changed and was lonely. The warblers cry their sleepy-songsAcross…