Poetry
Winter 1956
Two Poems
I. I think the dead are tender. Shall we kiss?–My lady laughs, delighting in what is. If she but sighs, a bird puts out its tongue. She makes space lonely […]
Poetry
Winter 1952
Old Lady’s Winter Words
To seize, to seize– I know that dream. Now my ardors sleep in a sleeve. My eyes have forgotten. Like the half-dead, I hug my last secrets. O for some […]
Poetry
Summer 1950
Elegy for Jane
(My student, thrown by a horse) I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils;And her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile; And how, once startled into talk, the light […]
Poetry
Summer 1950
A Light Breather
The spirit moves, Yet stays: Stirs as a blossom stirs, Still wet from its bud-sheath, Slowly unfolding, Turning in the light with its tendrils; Plays as a minnow plays, Tethered […]