I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her poc… full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone o…

At Blackwater Pond the tossed wat… after a night of rain. I dip my cupped hands. I drink a long time. It tastes like stone, leaves, fire. It falls…

In the early curtains of the dusk it flew, a slow galloping this way and that way

All winter the water has crashed over the cold the cold sand. Now it breaks over the thin branch of your body.

Is the soul solid, like iron? Or is it tender and breakable, lik… the wings of a moth in the beak of… Who has it, and who doesn’t? I keep looking around me.

Scatterghost, it can’t float away. And the rain, everybody’s brother, won’t help. And the wind all these… flying like ten crazy sisters ever…

My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hum… equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there t… Here the clam deep in the speckled…

Hello, sun in my face. Hello, you who make the morning and spread it over the fields and into the faces of the tulips and the nodding morning glories,

Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black b… Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean– the one who has flung herself out…

The spirit likes to dress up like this: ten fingers, ten toes, shoulders, and all the rest

From a single grain they have mult… When you look in the eyes of one you have seen them all. At the edges of highways they pick at limp things.

Every morning the world is created. Under the orange sticks of the sun

There is, all around us, this country of original fire. You know what I mean. The sky, after all, stops at nothi…

In winter all the singing is in the tops of the trees where the wind-bird with its white eyes

Last night in the fields I lay down in the darkness to think about death, but instead I fell asleep,