Giant Snail (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
The rain has stopped. The waterfall will roar like that all night. I have come out to take a walk ...
Elizabeth Bishop Poems (68 Poems)
A Miracle For Breakfast (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee, waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb that was going to be ...
The End Of March (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
View Of The Capitol From The Library Of Congress (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Moving from left to left, the light is heavy on the Dome, and coarse. One small lunette turns it aside ...
Florida (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
The state with the prettiest name, the state that floats in brackish water, held together by mangrave roots that bear ...
Rain Towards Morning (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
The great light cage has broken up in the air, freeing, I think, about a million birds whose wild ascending ...
Five Flights Up (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Still dark. The unknown bird sits on his usual branch. The little dog next door barks in his sleep inquiringly, ...
Conversation (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
The tumult in the heart keeps asking questions. And then it stops and undertakes to answer in the same tone ...
Exchanging Hats (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Unfunny uncles who insist in trying on a lady's hat, --oh, even if the joke falls flat, we share your ...
O Breath (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Beneath that loved and celebrated breast, silent, bored really blindly veined, grieves, maybe lives and lets live, passes bets, something ...
Poem (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
About the size of an old-style dollar bill, American or Canadian, mostly the same whites, gray greens, and steel grays ...
Casabianca (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Love's the boy stood on the burning deck trying to recite "The boy stood on the burning deck." Love's the ...
At The Fishhouses (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in ...
The Man-Moth (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Man-Moth: Newspaper misprint for "mammoth." Here, above, cracks in the buldings are filled with battered moonlight. The whole shadow of ...
Anaphora (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
In memory of Marjorie Carr Stevens Each day with so much ceremony begins, with birds, with bells, with whistles from ...
The Armadillo (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
For Robert Lowell This is the time of year when almost every night the frail, illegal fire balloons appear. Climbing ...
Sonnet (1979) (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Caught -- the bubble in the spirit level, a creature divided; and the compass needle wobbling and wavering, undecided. Freed ...
Argument (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Days that cannot bring you near or will not, Distance trying to appear something more obstinate, argue argue argue with ...
Letter To N.Y. (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
For Louise Crane In your next letter I wish you'd say where you are going and what you are doing; ...
The Unbeliever (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
He sleeps on the top of a mast. - Bunyan He sleeps on the top of a mast with his ...
The Bight (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
At low tide like this how sheer the water is. White, crumbling ribs of marl protrude and ...
Questions of Travel (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams hurry too rapidly down to the sea, and the pressure of ...
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 ...
First Death In Nova Scotia (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
In the cold, cold parlor my mother laid out Arthur beneath the chromographs: Edward, Prince of Wales, with Princess Alexandra, ...
The Map (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Land lies in water; it is shadowed green. Shadows, or are they shallows, at its edges showing the line of ...
The Shampoo (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
The still explosions on the rocks, the lichens, grow by spreading, gray, concentric shocks. They have arranged to meet the ...
In The Waiting Room (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
In Worcester, Massachusetts, I went with Aunt Consuelo to keep her dentist's appointment and sat and waited for her in ...
Manners (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
For a Child of 1918 My grandfather said to me as we sat on the wagon seat, "Be sure to ...
Insomnia (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
The moon in the bureau mirror looks out a million miles (and perhaps with pride, at herself, but she never, ...
The Moose (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea ...