After experience taught me that all the ordinary …
W. D. Snodgrass
As we drove back, crossing the hill, …
The green catalpa tree has turned …
Stand back, make way, you mindless scum, …
Child of my winter, born …
This is the needle that we give …
Sorting out letters and piles of my old …
The eyelids glowing, some chill morning. …
I …
And why, Herr Reichsmarschall, is Italy …
Sweet beast, I have gone prowling, …
Observe the cautious toadstools …
Up the reputable walks of old established trees …
Is it, then, your opinion …
Admire, when you come here, the glimmering hair …
My pale stepdaughter, just off the school bus, …