#AmericanWriters
Every tan rolling meadow will turn… Freeways are clogged all day Academies packed with scholars wri… City people lean and dark This land most real
At the last turn in the path “goodbye—” —bending, bowing, (moss and a bit of wild
Washing Kai in the sauna, The kerosene lantern set on a box outside the ground-level window, Lights up the edge of the iron sto… washtub down on the slab
Old Woman Nature naturally has a bag of bones tucked away somewhere. a whole room full of bones! A scattering of hair and cartilage
Owl calls, pollen dust blows Swirl of light strokes writhing knot-tying light paths,
One afternoon the last week in Ap… Showing Kai how to throw a hatche… One-half turn and it sticks in a s… He recalls the hatchet-head Without a handle, in the shop
Out there walking round, looking o… a rootstock, a birdcall, a seed th… plucking, digging, snaring, snaggi… barely getting by, no food out there on dusty slopes…
Ah to be alive on a mid-September morn fording a stream barefoot, pants rolled up, holding boots, pack on,
He had driven half the night From far down San Joaquin Through Mariposa, up the Dangerous Mountain roads, And pulled in at eight a.m.
O Wave God who broke through… Sea Bream massive pink and silver cool swimming down with me watchin… staying away from the spear
Hammering a dent out of a bucket a woodpecker answers from the woods
A few light flakes of snow Fall in the feeble sun; Birds sing in the cold, A warbler by the wall. The plum Buds tight and chill soon bloom.
Izanami gave birth to rocks, trees, rivers… and last, a blazing child so burned she died. In the land of darkness
The sour smell, blue stain, water squirts out round the wedge, Lifting quarters of rounds covered with ants,