The sea is never still.
It pounds on the shore
The working girls in the morning are going to work--
...
Night from a railroad car window
Is a great, dark, soft...
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the...
Your whitelight flashes the frost to-night
Moon of the...
Your white shoulders
I remember
And your shrug of...
In the old wars drum of hoofs and the beat of shod feet.
Today I will let the old boat stand
Where the sweep of the...
Your eyes and the valley are memories.
Your eyes fire and...
I too have a garret of old playthings.
I have tin...
Wonder as of old things
Fresh and fair come back
Under the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips...
I am a copper wire slung in the air,
Slim against the sun...
While the hum and the hurry
Of passing footfalls
Beat...
I
I am the undertow
Washing tides of power
Faces of two eternities keep looking at me.
One is Omar...
Memory of you is . . . a blue spear of flower.
I cannot...
Yellow dust on a bumble
bee's wing,
Grey lights in...
Among the shadows where two streets cross,
A woman lurks...
Undertakers, hearse drivers, grave diggers,
I speak to you...
Riding against the east,
A veering, steady shadow
Over the dead line we have called to you
To come across...
You come along. . . tearing your shirt. . . yelling about
...
I was a boy when I heard three red words
a thousand...
Of my city the worst that men will ever say is this:
You...