Gravelly Run
I don’t know somehow it seems sufficient To see and hear whatever coming and going is, Losing the self to the victory of stones and trees, Of bending sandpit lakes, crescent Round groves of
Recovery
All afternoon The tree shadows, accelerating, Lengthened Till Sunset Shot them black into infinity: Next morning Darkness Returned from the other Infinity and the Shadows caught ground And through the morning, slowing, Hardened into
Shit List; Or, Omnium-gatherum Of Diversity Into Unity
You’ll rejoice at how many kinds of shit there are: Gosling shit (which J. Williams said something Was as green as), fish shit (the generality), trout Shit, rainbow trout shit (for the nice), mullet
The City Limits
When you consider the radiance, that it does not withhold Itself but pours its abundance without selection into every Nook and cranny not overhung or hidden; when you consider That birds’ bones make no
Hymn
I know if I find you I will have to leave the earth And go on out over the sea marshes and the brant in bays And over the hills of tall hickory And
Eyesight
It was May before my Attention came To spring and My word I said To the southern slopes I’ve Missed it, it Came and went before I got right to see: Don’t worry, said
Poetics
I look for the way Things will turn Out spiralling from a center, The shape Things will take to come forth in So that the birch tree white Touched black at branches Will stand