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Denise Levertov's Poetry, by title

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  • Something forgotten for twenty years: though my fathers
    and mothers came from Cordova and Vitepsk and Caernarvon,
    41 lines
  • The old wooden steps to the front door
    where I was sitting that fall morning
    35 lines
  • White dawn. Stillness.      When the rippling began
        I took it for a sea-wind, coming to our valley wit
    172 lines, 4 comments
  • Some people,
    no matter what you give them,
    16 lines
  • Rose Red's hair is brown as fur
    and shines in firelight as she prepares
    43 lines, 1 comment
  • When I found the door
    I found the vine leaves
    19 lines, 2 comments
  • Rain-diamonds, this winter morning, embellish the tangle of unpruned pear-tree twigs; each solitaire, placed, it appearrs, with considered judgement, bears the
    0 lines
  • All others talked as if
    talk were a dance.
    32 lines
  • Brilliant, this day – a young virtuoso of a day.
    Morning shadow cut by sharpest scissors,
    14 lines
  • The clouds as I see them, rising
    urgently, roseate in the
    52 lines
  • The tree of knowledge was the tree of reason.
    That's why the taste of it
    24 lines
  • Weißer Tagesanbruch. Stille. Als das Kräuseln begann,
            hielt ich es für Seewind, in unser Tal kommend mit
    73 lines
  • The flowerlike
    animal perfume
    24 lines
  • From the tawny light
    from the rainy nights
    32 lines
  • As the stores close, a winter light
        opens air to iris blue,
    22 lines
  • This wild night, gathering the washing as if it were flowers
              animal vines twisting over the line
    37 lines
  • Genial poets, pink-faced
    earnest wits—
    49 lines
  • In the Japanese tongue of the mind's eye one two syllable word tells of the fringe of rain clinging to the eaves and of the grey-green fronds of wild parsley.
    0 lines
  • O Eros, silently smiling one, hear me.
    Let the shadow of thy wings
    23 lines
  • Hypocrite women, how seldom we speak
    of our own doubts, while dubiously
    32 lines
  • Down through the tomb's inward arch
    He has shouldered out into Limbo
    37 lines
  • The Rav
    of Northern White Russia declined,
    18 lines
  • Among the blight-killed eucalypts, among
    trees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts,
    35 lines
  • Pale, then enkindled,
    light
    84 lines
  • There's in my mind a woman
    of innocence, unadorned but
    17 lines
  • After I had cut off my hands
    and grown new ones
    8 lines
  • The fire in leaf and grass
    so green it seems
    13 lines
  • "The World is not something to
    look at, it is something to be in."
    24 lines
  • Long after you have swung back
    away from me
    18 lines

  • The authentic! Shadows of it
    145 lines
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