Bull by day And dozes by night. Would that the bulldozer Dozed all the time Would that the bulldozer

Those who have touched it or been… Or brushed by something that the v… Or burning it, have stood where th… Has touched them-Know the meaning… The leaf is smooth. Its green is…

From where I stand the sheep stan… As stones against the stony hill. The stones are gray And so are they. And both are weatherworn and round…

My mind matches this understand la… Outdoors the pencilled tree, the w… Indoors the constant fire, the car… Are facts that I accept and under… I have brought in red berries and…

Winter uses all the blues there ar… One shade of blue for water, one f… Another blue for shadows over snow… The clear or cloudy sky uses blue… Both different blues. And hills r…

The winter apples have been picked… Rain and wind have picked the mapl… The last of them now bank the hous… None are left upon the trees or on… Green and tall as ever it grew in…

When others run to windows or out… To catch the sunset whole, he is c… With any segment anywhere he sits. From segment, fragment, he can rec… The whole, prefers to reconstruct…

Keep me from going to sleep too so… Or if I go to sleep too soon Come wake me up. Come any hour Of night. Come whistling up the r… Stomp on the porch. Bang on the d…

A wind’s word, the Hebrew Hallelu… I wonder they never gave it to a b… (Hal for short) boy with wind-wild… It means Praise God, as well it s… Is what God’s for. Why didn’t the…

Four Tao philosophers as cedar wa… chat on a February berry bush in sun, and I am one. Such merriment and such sobriety— the small wild fruit on the tall s…

Poised between going on and back,… Both ways taut like a tightrope-wa… Fingertips pointing the opposites, Now bouncing tiptoe like a dropped… Or a kid skipping rope, come on, c…

A seated statue of himself he seem… A bronze slowness becomes him. Pa… The page he contemplates he doesn’… The lesson, the long lesson, has b… His mind holds summer, as his skin…

The first speaker said Fear fire. Fear furnaces Incinerators, the city dump The faint scratch of a match. The second speaker said

Words of a poem should be glass But glass so simple-subtle its sha… Is nothing but the shape of what i… A glass spun for itself is empty, Brittle, at best Venetian trinket…