A Man Meets A Woman In The Street (Randall Jarrell Poems)
Under the separated leaves of shadeOf the gingko, that old treeThat has existed essentially unchangedLonger than any other living tree,I ...
Under the separated leaves of shadeOf the gingko, that old treeThat has existed essentially unchangedLonger than any other living tree,I ...
It sat between my husband and my children.A place was set for it-a plate of greens.It had been there: I ...
A sword in his right hand, a stone in his left hand,He is naked. Shod and naked. Hatted and naked.The ...
I walk beside the prisoners to the road.Load on puffed load,Their corpses, stacked like sodden wood,Lie barred or galled with ...
About suffering, about adoration, the old masters Disagree. When someone suffers, no one else eats Or walks or opens the ...
Each day brings its toad, each night its dragon. Der heilige Hieronymus--his lion is at the zoo-- Listens, listens. All ...
One looks from the train Almost as one looked as a child. In the sunlight What I see still seems ...
What a girl called "the dailiness of life" (Adding an errand to your errand. Saying, "Since you're up . . ...
The letters always just evade the hand One skates like a stone into a beam, falls like a bird. Surely ...
Looking back in my mind I can see The white sun like a tin plate Over the wooden turning of ...
At the back of the houses there is the wood. While there is a leaf of summer left, the wood ...
A bird that I don't know, Hunched on his light-pole like a scarecrow, Looks sideways out into the wheat The ...
I ate pancakes one night in a Pancake House Run by a lady my age. She was gay. When I ...
Did they send me away from my cat and my wife To a doctor who poked me and counted my ...
With beasts and gods, above, the wall is bright. The child's head, bent to the book-colored shelves, Is slow and ...
The moon rises. The red cubs rolling In the ferns by the rotten oak Stare over a marsh and a ...
Her imaginary playmate was a grown-up In sea-coal satin. The flame-blue glances, The wings gauzy as the membrane that the ...
In the shabby train no seat is vacant. The child in the ripped mask Sprawls undisturbed in the waste Of ...
When the swans turned my sister into a swan I would go to the lake, at night, from milking: The ...
At home, in my flannel gown, like a bear to its floe, I clambered to bed; up the globe's impossible ...
Moving from Cheer to Joy, from Joy to All, I take a box And add it to my wild rice, ...
The saris go by me from the embassies. Cloth from the moon. Cloth from another planet. They look back at ...
It was not dying: everybody died. It was not dying: we had died before In the routine crashes-- and our ...
(Rainer Maria Rilke) He went up under the gray leaves All gray and lost in the olive lands And laid ...
The postman comes when I am still in bed. "Postman, what do you have for me today?" I say to ...
If, in an odd angle of the hutment, A puppy laps the water from a can Of flowers, and the ...
From my mother's sleep I fell into the State, And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze. ...
The spirit killeth, but the letter giveth life. The week is dealt out like a hand That children pick up ...
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