Author: Elizabeth Bishop

This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must Be over that way somewhere. […]

In the cold, cold parlor My mother laid out Arthur Beneath the chromographs: Edward, Prince of Wales, With Princess Alexandra, […]

Beneath that loved and celebrated breast, Silent, bored really blindly veined, Grieves, maybe lives and lets Live, passes bets, Something […]

September rain falls on the house. In the failing light, the old grandmother Sits in the kitchen with the child […]

At six o’clock we were waiting for coffee, Waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb That was going to be […]

On the unbreathing sides of hills They play, a specklike girl and boy, Alone, but near a specklike house. The […]

For Louise Crane In your next letter I wish you’d say Where you are going and what you are doing; […]

I A washing hangs upon the line, but it’s not mine. None of the things that I can see belong […]

Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)- A sort of inheritance; white, In your thirties now, and supposed To supply me […]

The rain has stopped. The waterfall will roar like that all Night. I have come out to take a walk […]