The flame—red moon, the harvest mo
Rolls along the hills, gently boun
A vast balloon,
Till it takes off, and sinks upwar
To lie on the bottom of the sky, l

She gives him his eyes, she found
Among some rubble, among some beet
He gives her her skin
He just seemed to pull it down out
She weeps with fearfulness and ast

The moon not o be named
Going over, clear of all poetry,
The exhauster of the poetical
Faculties of our race, surrenderin
Of her fourth day rights, ignores

With nothing to brag about but the
Tearing boar-flesh and swilling al
A fermenting of huge-chested bragg
Got nowhere by sitting still
To hear some timorous poet enlarge

On the sheep-cropped summit, under
The mouse crouched, staring out th
It dared not take.
Time and a world
Too old to alter, the five mile pr

O lady, when the tipped cup of the
You became soft fire with a cloud’
The difficult stars swam for eyes
You stood, and your shadow was my
You turned, your shadow turned to

I climbed through woods in the hou
Evil air, a frost—making stillness
Not a leaf, not a bird—
A world cast in frost. I came out
Where my breath left tortuous stat

The mahogany table-top you smashed
Had been the broad plank top
Of my mother’s heirloom sideboard—
Mapped with the scars of my whole
That came under the hammer.

“No, the serpent did not
Seduce Eve to the apple.
All that’s simply
Corruption of the facts.
Adam ate the apple.

The tractor stands frozen —an agon
To think of. All night
Snow packed its open entrails. No
A spill of molten ice, smoking sno
Pours into its steel.