#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
Owl calls, pollen dust blows Swirl of light strokes writhing knot-tying light paths,
Clearing the mind and sliding in to that created space, a web of waters steaming over rock… air misty but not raining, seeing this land from a boat on a…
At the last turn in the path “goodbye—” —bending, bowing, (moss and a bit of wild
“O hell, what do mine eyes with grief behold?” Working with an old Singlejack miner, who can sense The vein and cleavage
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.
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
One granite ridge A tree, would be enough Or even a rock, a small creek, A bark shred in a pool. Hill beyond hill, folded and twist…
Hammering a dent out of a bucket a woodpecker answers from the woods
Down valley a smoke haze Three days heat, after five days r… Pitch glows on the fir-cones Across rocks and meadows Swarms of new flies.
I first saw it in the sixties, driving a Volkswagen camper with a fierce gay poet and a lovely but dangerous girl with a h… we came down from Canada
O Wave God who broke through… Sea Bream massive pink and silver cool swimming down with me watchin… staying away from the spear
Swung from the toes out, Belly-breath riding on the knuckle… The ten-pound maul lifts up, Sails in an arc overhead, And then lifts you!
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.
the Great Sun Buddha in this corner of the Infinite Void gave a Discourse to all the assembled elements and energies: to the standing beings, the walking beings, the flying beings, and ...