ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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11 12 13 14 15
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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 12

untitled
it's as the world is...


SONG
in the beak of one bird...


I STAND
before the tree...


PLUS A DAY
the eastern light...


ME STANDING STILL
by my feet infant trees...


10/8/03
trunk in the forest lit...


APPLE AND NEARFULL MOON
first bite of an apple...


SUNSET AUTUMN
the brilliant west...


UNEXPECTED LOVE
the cranes hovering...


STILL POOL
inked by falling leaves...


10/23/03
moody cemetery...


ACROSS IN
air...


IN MY NEW BLACK JACKET
beanfields shake their rattles...


OUR TRIP
it is like...


ALAN AFTER HE LEFT
missed out on certain sundays...


5:55
moon gone...


SOMETIME IN THE SEASON
a shower blowing headlines past...


THE HILL WAS BRIGHT GREEN
the crow was darker...


FOLLOWING
the road coming out of my mouth...


NEW SORROWS EVERY DAY
the birds flying through my head...


REAL REMEMBRANCE
the wind as the weather changes...


MY POEMS
I said and then paused...


12/1/03
branches bare their birds to the wind...


LONG FULL
the evening land...


AROUND
the way the world looked to him...


ON THE WORLD
this world is one...


FROM THIS BLUFF
trees having shed their leaves...


WOODS: ZONE
where loneliness finds itself...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM WRIGHT
when the sea comes back...


WILDNESS COMES BACK
The wild in America is contained, pushed back, owned by the people...


3/1/04
the road is quiet...


AUTOBIOGRAPHY VOL. III
in the desert of eternity...


FOR ONCE
setting a course...


YELLOW BIRCH RAVINE, HEMLOCK CLIFFS
go an hour south...


PRESERVED
how a house becomes a ruin...


INSTANT PRACTICE
I have failed...


TEACHER
breath of breaths...


UNTIL
this dream we are living...


OF THE NINETEEN THOUSAND
of the nineteen thousand days of my life so far...


UNDISTURBED
The night after the poetry reading I slept well but towards morning...


SHORT SPRING SHOPPING LIST
forsythia...


WAZOO,
out the:...


7/20/04
the dead wood's fruit...


ELEGY
told me two weeks before he died...


MY CAREER I
near the cascades leaping recklessly...


MY CAREER II
standing on the vast roof that evening...


UNAFFLICTED
summer somnia...


WHAT I NOTICED AND WHAT I THOUGHT
trees shook by wind...


PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE
so happy with me...


WHILE THE MASS EXTINCTIONS
went on there were...


LEFT
to have waited...


LESSON
the heart tilted over...


MODERN SINKHOLES
near the house...


EVERYWHERE
this time of year...


WEEKEND SCENE
walking in circles forwards...


LAST DAY OF SUMMER
a tree lighter by a leaf...


DRY
the natives mow their lawns...


FIRST LIGHT
the other great example...


THE BOLD AND THE PALE
the morning glories have surged up the trellises...


I'M HAPPY
when I say I'm happy...

HERE


Here where the alleys cross all the ground has been asphalted
over for parking behind the houses that have become businesses.
This used to be where children played, the plot of vegetables
was laid out, backyard chickens scratched. The twenties,
perhaps. "Ja-Da" reproduced phonographically floated outside
through the screen. And earlier? Horse hoof clops, buoyant
confidence of the Christians, class contention, the rail lines
coming to the center of town. Before that, grieving over the
Civil War that had been cheered forward from all the porches
around, soldiers parading away. And even before, taking over
from those who had been marched out of sight, saving an
occasional thought such as Indian Creek for them, otherwise
refusing to remember. And then those long millenia backward
we scarcely hope to know, the time before men when a shaggy
beast pressed a hoof here or a dragon strode. The time this
spot lay under the sea accumulating a fine dust of tiny bodies
into mud and then rock. And this spot was here when it was all
hot gasses or a space of nothing, this spot here where the
alleys cross.