by Marianne Moore wadethrough black jade.Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keepsadjusting ash heaps;opening and shutting itself likeaninjured fan.The barnacles which encrust the sideof the wave, cannot hidethere for the submerged shafts of thesunsplit like spunglass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness,into the crevices -in and out, illuminatingthe turquoise seaof bodies. The water drives a wedgeof ironContinue reading “The Fish”
Tag Archives: Marianne Moore
No Swan So Fine
by Marianne Moore “No water so still as the dead fountains of Versailles.” No swan, with swart blind look askance and gondoliering legs, so fine as the chinz china one with fawn- brown eyes and toothed gold collar on to show whose bird it was. Lodged in the Louis Fifteenth candelabrum-tree of cockscomb- tinted buttons,Continue reading “No Swan So Fine”
Robin's Nest 