In the cards and at the bend in th… we never saw you in the womb and in the crossfire in the numbers whatever you had your hand in

Gray whale Now that we are sinding you to Th… That great god Tell him That we who follow you invented fo…

Every year without knowing it I h… When the last fires will wave to m… And the silence will set out Tireless traveller Like the beam of a lightless star

The cold slope is standing in dark… But the south of the trees is dry… The heavy limbs climb into the moo… I came to watch these White plants older at night

Naturally it is night. Under the overturned lute with its One string I am going my way Which has a strange sound. This way the dust, that way the du…

In the evening all the hours that weren’t used are emptied out and the beggars are waiting to gat… to open them

At the last minute a word is waiti… not heard that way before and not… repeated or ever be remembered one that always had been a househo… used in speaking of the ordinary

Out of the dry days through the dusty leaves far across the valley those few notes never heard here before

When Hans Hofmann became a hedgeh… somewhere in a Germany that has vanished with its forests and hedg… Shakespeare would have been a youn… starting out in a country that was

By this part of the century few ar… in the animals for they are not th… of them served on plates and the p… are sounds of shadows that possess… there is still game for the pleasu…

Why did he promise me that we would build ourselves an ark all by ourselves out in back of the house on New York Avenue

This is a place on the way after t… can no longer be kept straight her… of the barn a mound of wheels has… raveling courses to stop in a sing… and lie down as still as the chari…

Moored to the same ring: The hour, the darkness and I, Our compasses hooded like falcons. Now the memory of you comes aching… With a wash of broken bits which n…

Now that you have caught sight of the other side of darkness the invisible side so that you can tell it is rising

It was a late book given up for lo… again and again with its sentences bare at last and phrases that seem… revealing what had been there the… the poems of daylight after the da…