CLOSE-MOUTHED you sat five t… let out a whisper. Processions came by, marchers, ask… answered with grey eyes never blin… never talking.

I DREAMED one man stood agains… One man damned as a wrongheaded fo… One year and another he walked the… And a thousand shrugs and hoots Met him in the shoulders and mouth…

THE SHALE and water thrown tog… Then a potter’s hand on the wheel… Slimpsy, loose and ready to fall a… Dipped in glaze more fire plays on… Take it now; out of mud now here i…

THE SEA is large. The sea hold on a leg of land in t… Five white houses on a half-mile s… Not so long ago … the sea was larg… And to-day the sea has lost nothin…

WALKED among the streets of an old city and the streets were lean as the throats of hard seafish soaked in salt and kept in barrels many years. How old, how old, how old, we are:—the...

PEA pods cling to stems. Neponset, the village, Clings to the Burlington railway… Terrible midnight limiteds roar th… Hauling sleepers to the Rockies a…

NANCY HANKS dreams by the fir… Dreams, and the logs sputter, And the yellow tongues climb. Red lines lick their way in flicke… Oh, sputter, logs.

I will read ashes for you, if you… I will look on the fire and tell y… And out of the red and black tongu… I will tell how fire comes And how fire runs far as the sea.

RED gold of pools, Sunset furrows six o’clock, And the farmer done in the fields And the cows in the barns with bul… Take the cows and the farmer,

THEY put up big wooden gods. Then they burned the big wooden go… And put up brass gods and Changing their minds suddenly Knocked down the brass gods and pu…

THREE walls around the town of… They expected everything of those… Nobody in the town came out to kis… I knocked the walls down, killed t… Took away cattle and sheep, took a…

I WANTED a man’s face looking i… of life With something proud on his face,… of the jaws, No gulp of the throat leaves the f…

THIN sheets of blue smoke among white slabs … near the shingle mill … winter morning. Falling of a dry leaf might be heard … circular steel tears through a log. Slope of woodland … ...

GRIEG being dead we may speak of… Grieg being dead we can talk about… Grieg being with Ibsen, Björnson… Grieg being dead does not care a h… Morning, Spring, Anitra’s Dance,

COVER me over In dusk and dust and dreams. Cover me over And leave me alone. Cover me over,