Down by one of the fish-houses
We took turns at laying an ear on the rail
I am safe but the land is darkening
Behind everything, in little villages, in garages
Let us set off for somewhere
I have crossed the border
No dream kitchen, just the fire
The birds are massing; the sky is black
Early morning, Fairhaven, Massachusetts
A fox in the chickens
I bought some fresh potatoes
I love to go out when the weather is undecided
Nothing but blackberries
Every year you say it isn't worth the trouble
Gleaming machines
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