#Americans #XXCentury
Setting a trotline after sundown if we went far enough away in the… sometimes up out of deep water would come a secret-headed channel… Eyes that were still eyes in the r…
Anyone with quiet pace who walks a gray road in the West may hear a badger underground wher… in deep flint another time is Caught by flint and held forever,
If you don’t know the kind of pers… and I don’t know the kind of perso… a pattern that others made may pre… and following the wrong god home w… For there is many a small betrayal…
Your exact errors make a music that nobody hears. Your straying feet find the great… walking alone. And you live on a world where stum…
When there was air, when you could breathe any day if you liked, and… wanted to you could run. I used to climb those hills back of town and follow a gully so my eyes were at…
We wondered what our walk should m… taking that un-march quietly; the sun stared at our signs—“Thou… Men by a tavern said, “Those fore… to a woman with a fur, who turned…
Turn Over Your Hand Those lines on your palm, they can… for a hidden part of your life tha… those links can say—nobody’s voice can find so tiny a message as come…
We would climb the highest dune, from there to gaze and come down: the ocean was performing; we contributed our climb. Waves leapfrogged and came
Some time when the river is ice as… mistakes I have made. Ask me whet… what I have done is my life. Othe… have come their slow way into my thought, and some have tried to…
The light by the barn that shines… pales at dawn when a little breeze… A little breeze comes breathing th… from their sleep and waking the sl… The slow windmill sings the long d…
“The broken part heals even strong… the rest,” they say. But that takes awhile. And, “Hurry up,” the whole world… They tap their feet. And it still…
Most mornings I get away, slip ou… the door before light, set forth o… road, letting my feet find a caden… that softly carries me on. Nobody is up—all alone my journey begins.
My family slept those level miles but like a bell rung deep till daw… I drove down an aisle of sound, nothing real but in the bell, past the town where I was born.
Cold nights outside the taverns in… pickups and big semis lounge idlin… haunches twitch now and then in gu… their owners inside for hours, for… as they can the miles, the circlin…
There’s a thread you follow. It g… things that change. But it doesn’t… People wonder about what you are p… You have to explain about the thre… But it is hard for others to see.
