Poems by James Wright
The Last Pieta, in Florence
... What is that old &emsp ...
As I Step Over A Puddle At The End Of Winter, I Think Of An Ancient Chinese Governor
... Where is the sea, that once solved the whole loneliness ...
At The Executed Murderer's Grave
... And my bodies-father and child and unskilled criminal- ...
Beginning
... Their wings. Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow ...
Outside Fargo, North Dakota
... Along the sprawled body of the derailed Great Northern freight car, ...
A Way To Make A Living
... And waken, The sea shining on their shoulders, the fresh ...
To A Blossoming Pear Tree
... By anything but your beautiful natural blossoms ...
A Blessing
... At home once more, they begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness ...
In Response To A Rumor That The Oldest Whorehouse In Wheeling, West Virginia, Has Been Condemned
... What time near dawn did they climb up the other shore, ...
The Minneapolis Poem
... Into dusk. The sockets of a thousand blind bee graves tier upon tier ...
A Secret Gratitude
... ondered already, at the time of our visit, what would happen to Edna [Millay] if he should die first ...
Goodbye to the Poetry of Calcium
... Your name, all trellises of vineyards and old fire ...
Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota
... A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home ...
Sappho
... Ach, in den Armen hab ich sie alle verloren, du nur, du wirst immer wieder geboren ...
A Winter Daybreak above Vence
... I can Scarcely believe it, and yet I have to, this is ...
