Emily Dickinson:
Mute—thy Coronation— / [low] Meek—my Vive le roi, / Fold a tiny Courtier / In thine Ermine, Sir, / There to rest revering / Till the pageant by, / I can murmur broken, / Master, It was I,
Joseph Brodsky:
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Richard Brautigan:
Linda Gregg:
William Stafford:
What a poem starts out being it keeps on being.
Sylvia Plath, February 24, 1957:
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