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FURTHER READING
Poems by Trumbull Stickney
Live Blindly and Upon the Hour
Loneliness
On Some Shells Found Inland
They Lived Enamoured of the Lovely Moon
Poems for Autumn
Not Merely Because of the Unknown That Was Stalking Toward Them [But the rocking chair]
by Jenny Boully
After Apple-Picking
by Robert Frost
Autumn
by Amy Lowell
Autumn
by Richard Garcia
Autumn
by T. E. Hulme
Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio
by James Wright
Autumn Evening
by David Lehman
Autumn Grasses
by Margaret Gibson
Autumn Movement
by Carl Sandburg
Fall
by Edward Hirsch
Home
by Bruce Weigl
Lament of the Middle Man
by Jay Parini
Late Autumn Wasp
by James Hoch
Leaves
by Lloyd Schwartz
November Night
by Adelaide Crapsey
October
by Robert Frost
Ode to the West Wind
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Spring and Fall
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
That time of year thou mayst in me behold (Sonnet 73)
by William Shakespeare
The Plain Sense of Things
by Wallace Stevens
The Widening Spell of the Leaves
by Larry Levis
The Wild Swans at Coole
by W. B. Yeats
To Autumn
by William Blake
To Autumn
by John Keats, read by Stanley Plumly
Under the Harvest Moon
by Carl Sandburg
When Autumn Came
by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Poems about Anonymity and Loneliness
79
by Joachim du Bellay
Don't Let Me Be Lonely [There was a time]
by Claudia Rankine
Alone
by Maya Angelou
Alone for a Week
by Jane Kenyon
Angel of Duluth [excerpt]
by Madelon Sprengnether
At a Window
by Carl Sandburg
Beyond the Pane
by Greg Hewett
Boston
by Aaron Smith
Danse Russe
by William Carlos Williams
Dear Lonely Animal,
by Oni Buchanan
Demeter in Paris
by Meghan O'Rourke
Donal Óg
by Isabella Augusta, Lady Gregory
Drawing from Life
by Reginald Shepherd
Eating Alone
by Li-Young Lee
Found Poem
by Howard Nemerov
Gospel
by Philip Levine
How I Am
by Jason Shinder
How the mind works still to be sure
by Jennifer Denrow
How to See Deer
by Philip Booth
I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone
by Rainer Maria Rilke
I Am!
by John Clare
I'm Nobody! Who are you? (260)
by Emily Dickinson
Isolation: To Marguerite
by Matthew Arnold
Loneliness
by Trumbull Stickney
Museum
by Glyn Maxwell
Ode to Solitude
by Alexander Pope
On the Terrace
by Landis Everson
R.I.P., My Love
by Tory Dent
Sex
by Michael Ryan
Skunk Hour
by Robert Lowell
Song of Myself
by John Canaday
Sonnet V
by Mahmoud Darwish
The Creation
by James Weldon Johnson
The Daffodils
by William Wordsworth
The Hermit Goes Up Attic
by Maxine Kumin
The Living Beauty
by W. B. Yeats
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
by T. S. Eliot
The Sleepers
by Walt Whitman
The Suicide
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
the suicide kid
by Charles Bukowski
This Is a Photograph of Me
by Margaret Atwood
Those Winter Sundays
by Robert Hayden
Toro
by Sarah Gambito
WHERE?
by Kenneth Patchen
Whoever You Are Holding Me Now in Hand
by Walt Whitman
Why is the Color of Snow?
by Brenda Shaughnessy
Your Catfish Friend
by Richard Brautigan
Poems about Memories
A group of girls from Minnesota or black mascara
by Maureen Owen
Father Listens to the Artists
by David Petruzelli
For My Grandmother's Perfume, Norell
by Nickole Brown
forgetting something
by Nick Flynn
Help Me to Salt, Help Me to Sorrow
by Judy Jordan
I shall forget you presently, my dear (Sonnet XI)
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
In the Back Seat of History
by Mary Biddinger
Mississippi: Origins
by Anna Journey
Mnemonic
by Li-Young Lee
My Grandmother's Love Letters
by Hart Crane
No Ticket
by Jonathan Wells
Piano
by D. H. Lawrence
Remembered Light
by Clark Ashton Smith
Poems about Moving
Moving Out
by Sandra M. Gilbert
Three Moves
by John Logan
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Mnemosyne

 
by Trumbull Stickney

It's autumn in the country I remember

How warm a wind blew here about the ways!
And shadows on the hillside lay to slumber
During the long sun-sweetened summer-days.

It's cold abroad the country I remember.

The swallows veering skimmed the golden grain
At midday with a wing aslant and limber;
And yellow cattle browsed upon the plain

It's empty down the country I remember.

I had a sister lovely in my sight:
Her hair was dark, her eyes were very sombre;
We sang together in the woods at night.

It's lonely in the country I remember.

The babble of our children fills my ears,
And on our hearth I stare the perished ember
To flames that show all starry thro' my tears.

It's dark about the country I remember.

There are the mountains where I lived. The path
Is slushed with cattle-tracks and fallen timber,
The stumps are twisted by the tempests' wrath.

But that I knew these places are my own,
I'd ask how came such wretchedness to cumber
The earth, and I to people it alone.

It rains across the country I remember.






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