Robert Lowell - Air Quotes

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Oh my Petite,
clearest of all God's creatures, still all air and nerve.

Robert Lowell

I saw the spiders marching through the air,
Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed day
In latter August when the hay
Came creaking to the barn.

Robert Lowell

Flabby, bald, lobotomized,
he drifted in a sheepish calm,
where no agonizing reappraisal
jarred his concentration on the electric chair —
hanging like an oasis in his air
of lost connections.

Robert Lowell