Where I walk out to meet you on the cloth of burning fields the goldfinches

On the desert, between pale mounta… Far whispers creeping through an a… Coyote, on delicate mocking feet, Hovers down the canyon, among the… His voice running wild in the wind…

Reptilian green the wrinkled throa… Green as a bough of yew the beard; He bent his head, and so I smote; Then for a thought my vision clear… The head dropped clean; he rose an…

God spoke once in the dark: dead s… in the dead silence. I turned in my sleep.       I slept and sank away. Then breath by breath I rose

The spring has darkened with activ… The future gathers in vine, bush,… Persimmon, walnut, loquat, fig, an… Degrees and kinds of color, taste,… These will advance in their due se…

Snake River Country I now remembered slowly how I cam… I, sometime living, sometime with… Creeping by iron ways across the b… Wastes of Wyoming, turning in des…

My mother Foresaw deaths And walked among Chrysanthemums, Winecolored,

From the high terrace porch I wat… No light appears, though dark has… Sunk from the cold and monstrous s… Lie naked but not light. The dark… Down the remoter gulleys; pooled,…

Beyond the steady rock the steady… In movement more immovable than st… Gathers and washes and is gone. I… A slow obscure metonymy of motion, Crumbling the inner barriers of th…

I was the patriarch of the shining… Of the blond summer and metallic g… Men vanished at the motion of my h… And when I beckoned they would co… The earth grew dense with grain at…

Achilles Holt, Stanford, 1930 Here for a few short years Strengthen affections; meet, Later, the dull arrears Of age, and be discreet.

I, one who never speaks, Listened days in summer trees, Each day a rustling leaf. Then, in time, my unbelief Grew like my running—

The young are quick of speech. Grown middle-aged, I teach Corrosion and distrust, Exacting what I must. A poem is what stands

I could tell Of silence where One ran before Himself and fell Into silence