What Work Is (Philip Levine Poems)
We stand in the rain in a long line waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work. You know what work ...
We stand in the rain in a long line waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work. You know what work ...
(What Grandpa told the Children) The moon? It is a griffin's egg, Hatching to-morrow night. And how the little boys ...
I. Sunrise. In my sleep I was fain of their fellowship, fain Of the live-oak, the marsh, and the main. ...
Dawn coming in over the fields of darkness takes me by surprise and I look up from my solitary road ...
"Yes," said the sister with the little pinched face, The busy little sister with the funny little tract: - "This ...
Life swelleth in a whitening wave, And dasheth thee and me apart. I sweep out seaward: -- be thou brave. ...
People sit numbly at the counter waiting for breakfast or service. Today it's Hartford, Connecticut more than twenty-five years after ...
Once I loved a fairy, Queen Mab it was. Her voice Was like a little Fountain That bids the birds ...
"So pulse, and pulse, thou rhythmic-hearted Noon That liest, large-limbed, curved along the hills, In languid palpitation, half a-swoon With ...
We stripped in the first warm spring night and ran down into the Detroit River to baptize ourselves in the ...
I am unjust, but I can strive for justice. My life's unkind, but I can vote for kindness. I, the ...
Fair is the wedded reign of Night and Day. Each rules a half of earth with different sway, Exchanging kingdoms, ...
"...his poems that no one reads anymore become dust, wind, nothing, like the insolent colored shirt he bought to die ...
A Fantasy, dedicated to the little poet Alice Oliver Henderson, ten years old. The Fantasy shows how tiger-hearts are the ...
Well: Death is a huge omnivorous Toad Grim squatting on a twilight road. He catcheth all that Circumstance Hath tossed ...
THE DREAM This has nothing to do with war or the end of the world. She dreams there are gray ...
Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, The ...
Oft seems the Time a market-town Where many merchant-spirits meet Who up and down and up and down Cry out ...
On March 1, 1958, four deserters from the French Army of North Africa, August Rein, Henri Bruette, Jack Dauville, & ...
In the midst of the battle I turned, (For the thunders could flourish ...
At midnight, death's and truth's unlocking time, When far within the spirit's hearing rolls The great soft rumble of the ...
"I've been where it hurts." the Kid He becomes Sierra Kid I passed Slimgullion, Morgan Mine, Camp Seco, and the ...
I Within the town of Buffalo Are prosy men with leaden eyes. Like ants they worry to and fro, (Important ...
A Story of Christmas Eve. Strange that the termagant winds should scold The Christmas Eve so bitterly! But Wife, and ...
In Havana in 1948 I ate fried dog believing it was Peking duck. Later, in Tampa I bunked with an ...
Chant we the story now Tho' in a ...
Chapter I. Once on a time, a Dawn, all red and bright Leapt on the conquered ramparts of the Night, ...
The alder shudders in the April winds off the moon. No one is awake and yet sunlight streams across the ...
AFTER HAVING READ A GREAT DEAL OF GOOD CURRENT POETRY IN THE MAGAZINES AND NEWSPAPERS Ah, they are passing, passing ...
It was three slim does and a ten-tined buck in the bracken lay; And all of a sudden the sinister ...
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