How long ago the day is when at last I look at it with the time it has taken to be there still in it now in the transparent light

There in the fringe of trees betwe… the upper field and the edge of th… below it that runs above the valle… one time I heard in the early days of summer the clear ringing

In the evening all the hours that weren’t used are emptied out and the beggars are waiting to gat… to open them

Why did he promise me that we would build ourselves an ark all by ourselves out in back of the house on New York Avenue

At the last minute a word is waiti… not heard that way before and not… repeated or ever be remembered one that always had been a househo… used in speaking of the ordinary

It is March and black dust falls… Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here ha… Left already On the avenues the colorless threa…

This is a place on the way after t… can no longer be kept straight her… of the barn a mound of wheels has… raveling courses to stop in a sing… and lie down as still as the chari…

My friends without shields walk on… It is late the windows are breakin… My friends without shoes leave What they love Grief moves among them as a fire a…

The cold slope is standing in dark… But the south of the trees is dry… The heavy limbs climb into the moo… I came to watch these White plants older at night

Whenever I go there everything is… The stamps on the bandages the tit… Of the professors of water The portrait of Glare the reasons… The white mourning

When I was beginning to read I im… that bridges had something to do w… and with what seemed to be cages b… that they were not cages it must h… with the dusty light flashing from…

With what stillness at last you appear in the valley your first sunlight reaching down to touch the tips of a few high leaves that do not stir

Moored to the same ring: The hour, the darkness and I, Our compasses hooded like falcons. Now the memory of you comes aching… With a wash of broken bits which n…

The friends have gone home far up… of that river into whose estuary the man from England sailed in his… in time to catch sight of the late… furring in black the remotest edge…

In the long evening of April thro… Bayle’s two sheep dogs sail down t… for the flock a moment before he a… a stub of a man rolling as he appr… smiling and smiling and his dogs a…