flower
The poem
is a fiction. Marianne Moore never met her father, who was locked away before she was born in what was then called an insane asylum.
The flower is a fiction.
The glass is real.
Blueprint for an observatory
The study edition
When a hat is worn to the full, it becomes an idea
Leaf calls to leaf
In every sense, red
She receives her color
Tandem triumphans
Tempest: the leap
