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. Those Various Scalpels
2. To William Butler Yeats on Tagore
3. Talisman
4. Reinforcements
5. Feed Me, Also, River God

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