Roosters (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
At four o'clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the first cock just below the ...
At four o'clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the first cock just below the ...
In Worcester, Massachusetts, I went with Aunt Consuelo to keep her dentist's appointment and sat and waited for her in ...
For a Child of 1918 My grandfather said to me as we sat on the wagon seat, "Be sure to ...
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea ...
I dreamed that dead, and meditating, I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close-built bower). ...
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets ...
LEAVE me a little while alone, Here at his grave that still is strown With crumbling flower and wreath; The ...
sail on, when the sun is gone when the wind rises off a river slow when you hear no more ...
Sometimes I stroll through forests just sprayed for the gypsy moths. I throw a rock into the bushes to distract ...
At least I've learned this much: Life doesn't have to be all poetry and roses. Life can be bus rides, ...
In the red-roofed stucco house of my childhood, the dining room was screened off by folding doors with small glass ...
I imagine Nice and topless beaches, women smoking and reading novels in the sun. I pretend I am comfortable undressing ...
alas our good kaspar is dead. who will bury a burning flag in the wings of the clouds who will ...
This is going to cost you. If you really want to hear a country fiddle, you have to listen hard, ...
Many setups. At least as many falls. Winter is paralyzing the country, but not here. Here, the boys are impersonating ...
He, in the room above, grown old and tired, She, in the room below-his floor her ceiling- Pursue their separate ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai? You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me; You smile a ...
Of what she said to me that night-no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of ...
The warm sun dreams in the dust, the warm sun falls On bright red roofs and walls; The trees in ...
More towers must yet be built-more towers destroyed- Great rocks hoisted in air; And he must seek his bread in ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
When I knew, it was raining. Winter in decline. I was tired. You in your soaked shirt diffused into the ...
from Senlin: A Biography It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning When the light drips through the shutters ...
You know how it is waking from a dream certain you can fly and that someone, long gone, returned and ...
In early morning twilight, raw and chill, Damp vapours brooding on the barren hill, Through miles of mire in steady ...
Down on the shore, on the sunny shore! Where the salt smell cheers the land; Where the tide moves bright ...
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