From where I stand the sheep stan… As stones against the stony hill. The stones are gray And so are they. And both are weatherworn and round…

Poised between going on and back,… Both ways taut like a tightrope-wa… Fingertips pointing the opposites, Now bouncing tiptoe like a dropped… Or a kid skipping rope, come on, c…

Amherst never had a witch O Coos or of Grafton But once upon a time There were three old women. One wore a small beard

Those who have touched it or been… Or brushed by something that the v… Or burning it, have stood where th… Has touched them-Know the meaning… The leaf is smooth. Its green is…

Lingo of birds was easier than lin… they were elusive, though, the bir… He thought of Virgil, Virgil who… History he never forgave for letti… lapse into Italian, a renegade jab…

Bull by day And dozes by night. Would that the bulldozer Dozed all the time Would that the bulldozer

A seated statue of himself he seem… A bronze slowness becomes him. Pa… The page he contemplates he doesn’… The lesson, the long lesson, has b… His mind holds summer, as his skin…

The winter apples have been picked… Rain and wind have picked the mapl… The last of them now bank the hous… None are left upon the trees or on… Green and tall as ever it grew in…

Keep me from going to sleep too so… Or if I go to sleep too soon Come wake me up. Come any hour Of night. Come whistling up the r… Stomp on the porch. Bang on the d…

This little house sows the degrees By which wood can return to trees. Weather has stained the shingles d… And indistinguishable from bark. Lichen that long ago adjourned

Two boys uncoached are tossing a p… Overhand, underhand, backhand, sle… Teasing with attitudes, latitudes,… High, make him fly off the ground… Make him scoop it up, make him as-…

When others run to windows or out… To catch the sunset whole, he is c… With any segment anywhere he sits. From segment, fragment, he can rec… The whole, prefers to reconstruct…

My mind matches this understand la… Outdoors the pencilled tree, the w… Indoors the constant fire, the car… Are facts that I accept and under… I have brought in red berries and…

Words of a poem should be glass But glass so simple-subtle its sha… Is nothing but the shape of what i… A glass spun for itself is empty, Brittle, at best Venetian trinket…