Blue Juniata (Malcolm Cowley Poems)
Farmhouses curl like horns of plenty, hidescrawny bare shanks against a barn, or crouchempty in the shadow of a mountain. ...
Farmhouses curl like horns of plenty, hidescrawny bare shanks against a barn, or crouchempty in the shadow of a mountain. ...
My shadow, penetrated by dewy pastures,by constellations imprisoned in farmhouses,the breathing of sleeping menin their temporary tombs,advances down a road ...
Because finally the personal is all that matters, we spend years describing stones, chairs, abandoned farmhouses- until we're ready. Always ...
Dear to my heart are the ancestral dwellings of America, Dearer than if they were haunted by ghosts of royal ...
Water and windmills, greenness, Islets green;-- Willows whose Trunks beside the shadows stood Of their own higher half, and willowy ...
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea ...
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