Poem by Marianne Moore

He Made This Screen

not of silver nor of coral,
but of weatherbeaten laurel.

Here, he introduced a sea
uniform like tapestry;

here, a fig-tree; there, a face;
there, a dragon circling space—

designating here, a bower;
there, a pointed passion-flower.

1. Diligence Is to Magic as Progress Is to Flight
2. “He Wrote the History Book”, It Said
3. Feed Me, Also, River God
4. Black Earth
5. To a Steam Roller

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