Scatterghost, it can’t float away. And the rain, everybody’s brother, won’t help. And the wind all these… flying like ten crazy sisters ever…

Last night in the fields I lay down in the darkness to think about death, but instead I fell asleep,

Did you too see it, drifting, all… Did you see it in the morning, ris… An armful of white blossoms, A perfect commotion of silk and li… into the bondage of its wings; a s…

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your kn… for a hundred miles through the de… You only have to let the soft anim… love what it loves.

Have you ever seen anything in your life more wonderful than the way the sun,

I’d seen their hoofprints in the deep needles and knew they ended the long night under the pines, walking

Needing one, I invented her— the great-great-aunt dark as hicko… called Shining-Leaf, or Drifting… or The-Beauty-of-the-Night. Dear aunt, I’d call into the leav…

Hello, sun in my face. Hello, you who make the morning and spread it over the fields and into the faces of the tulips and the nodding morning glories,

There is, all around us, this country of original fire. You know what I mean. The sky, after all, stops at nothi…

Understand, I am always trying to… what the soul is, and where hidden, and what shape and so, last week,

Every morning the world is created. Under the orange sticks of the sun

In winter all the singing is in the tops of the trees where the wind-bird with its white eyes

In the early curtains of the dusk it flew, a slow galloping this way and that way

Don’t call this world adorable, or… It’s frisky, and a theater for mor… The eyelash of lightning is neithe… The struck tree burns like a pilla… But the blue rain sinks, straight…