When Robert Frost was alive, I was known as the other new England poet, which is to be barely known at all.
Howard NemerovNothing in the universe can travel at the speed of light, they say, forgetful of the shadow's speed.
Howard NemerovTill I, high in the tower of my time Among familiar ruins, began to cry For accident, sickness, justice, war and crime, Because all died, because I had to die. The snow fell, the trees stood, the promise kept, And a child I slept.
Howard NemerovFor a Jewish Puritan of the middle class, the novel is serious, the novel is work, the novel is conscientious application why, the novel is practically the retail business all over again.
Howard Nemerov