PolyArchive

Skunk Hour Robert Lowell Nautilus Island’s hermit heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage; her sheep still graze above the sea. Her son’s a bishop. Her farmer is first selectman in our village; she’s in her dotage. Thirsting for the hierarchic privacy of Queen Victoria’s century, she buys up all the eyesores facing […]

The Leaf and the Tree Edna St. Vincent Millay When will you learn, myself, to be a dying leaf on a living tree? Budding, swelling, growing strong, Wearing green, but not for long, Drawing sustenance from air, That other leaves, and you not there, May bud, and at the autumn’s call Wearing russet, ready to […]

The Reader Wallace Stevens All night I sat reading a book, Sat reading as if in a book Of sombre pages. It was autumn and falling stars Covered the shrivelled forms Crouched in moonlight. No lamp was burning as I read, A voice was mumbling, “Everything Falls back to coldness, Even the musky muscadines, The […]

God’s World Edna St. Vincent Millay O WORLD, I cannot hold thee close enough! Thy winds, thy wide grey skies! Thy mists, that roll and rise! Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag And all but cry with colour!  That gaunt crag To crush!  To lift the lean of that black bluff! World, […]