I WALKED down alone Sunday aft
To the place where John has been
To see for myself about the birch
He said I could have to bush my p
The sun in the new-cut narrow gap

The bear puts both arms around the
And draws it down as if it were a
And its choke cherries lips to kis
Then lets it snap back upright in
Her next step rocks a boulder on t

THERE overtook me and drew me in
To his down-hill, early-morning st
And set me five miles on my road
Better than if he had had me ride,
A man with a swinging bag for load

HERE come the line-gang pioneeri
They throw a forest down less cut
They plant dead trees for living,
They string together with a living
They string an instrument against

I slumbered with your poems on my
Spread open as I dropped them hal
Like dove wings on a figure on a t
To see, if in a dream they brought
I might not have the chance I mis

He gave the solid rail a hateful k
From far away there came an answer
And then another tick. He knew th
His hate had roused an engine up t
He wished when he had had the trac

Something inspires the only cow of
To make no more of a wall than an
And think no more of wall—builders
Her face is flecked with pomace an
A cider syrup. Having tasted frui

The mountain held the town as in a
I saw so much before I slept ther
I noticed that I missed stars in
Where its black body cut into the
Near me it seemed: I felt it like

To drive Paul out of any lumber c
All that was needed was to say to
‘How is the wife, Paul?’- and he’
Some said it was because be bad no
And hated to be twitted on the sub

Seek not in me the big I capital,
Not yet the little dotted in me se
If I have in me any I at all,
'Tis the iota subscript of the Gr
So small am I as an attention beg