#Americans #XXCentury
All the Sioux were defeated. Our… got poor, but a few got richer. They fought two wars. I did not take part. No one remembers your v… or even your real name. Now
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…
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.
Day after day up there beating my… with all the softness truth requir… I feel them shrug whenever I paus… they class my voice among tentativ… And they credit fact, force, batte…
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…
Wisdom is having things right in y… and knowing why. If you do not have things right in… you will be overwhelmed: you may be heroic, but you will no…
Traveling through the dark I foun… dead on the edge of the Wilson Ri… It is usually best to roll them in… that road is narrow; to swerve mig… By glow of the tail-light I stumb…
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…
Mine was a Midwest home—you can k… Plain black hats rode the thoughts… We sang hymns in the house; the ro… The light bulb that hung in the pa… but we could read by it the names…
Sometimes up out of this land a legend begins to move. Is it a coming near of something under love? Love is of the earth only,
We were alone one night on a long road in Montana. This was in wint… night, far to the stars. We had hi… my wife and I, and left our ride a… a crossing to go on. Tired and col…
Today outside your prison I stand and rattle my walking stick: Priso… you have relatives outside. And th… thousands of ways to escape. Years ago I bent my skill to keep…
Ours are the streets where Bess f… cancer. She went to work every day… secure houses. At her job in the l… she arranged better and better flo… students asked for books her hand…
“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.
