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

Today again I am hardly myself. It happens over and over. It is heaven-sent. It flows through me like the blue wave.

Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black b… Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean– the one who has flung herself out…

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

All winter the water has crashed over the cold the cold sand. Now it breaks over the thin branch of your body.

The river Of my childhood, That tumbled Down a passage of rocks And cut-work ferns,

She steps into the dark swamp where the long wait ends. The secret slippery package drops to the weeds. She leans her long neck and tongue…

I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her poc… full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone o…

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,

From a single grain they have mult… When you look in the eyes of one you have seen them all. At the edges of highways they pick at limp things.

The first fish I ever caught would not lie down quiet in the pail but flailed and sucked

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

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…

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…