YELLOW BIRCH RAVINE, HEMLOCK CLIFFS go an hour south 5 degrees warmer 10 days' advance on the season come to the land sparse of men rock cliffs in the trees dog running ahead ravines mass deep sculpture branching in go up the backside of the ridge higher higher the heart opens woods broken by pasture tall tufts of last year's grasses tan touched with red the world is all beauty 190 dead 1200 injured though harsh but cruelty is our game we never tire of find more cliffs walk in their bed green mossed rocks first spring beauties hemlocks give sound to the wind streams thrown over the rock edge become rain again long drive home like mourning or escape from mourning don't expect too much as you tire you'll fall asleep to the wind's sound and creaks the house makes
next poem >>