The lake is deserted now
The lake water lifted a little and fell
The meeting ended, and the delegates
The noon heat in the yard
The ocean swell mounted, approaching the land;
The pen writhed. It moved
The residue of a person’s work.
The shower is over.
The threadbare body gathers
The times were bad
The trees we drove under in the dusk
The West a fiery complex, the East a pearl,
There are established personal places
They dither softly at her bedroom door
Thou shalt not entertain,
Two creatures face each other, fixed in song,
Two months of blood-summer were in store,
Up on the high road, as far as the sheepfold
We came to the outer light down a ramp in the dark
We knew him first as a pious reputation,
We thought at first it was a body
What clamped us together? When each night fell we lay down
Years ago, while we were settling in,
You were silver-quiffed and tall
81
92
146
65
159
119
119
116
133
161
125
29
139
24
162
19
18
165
40
145
151
35
146
140
180
selected poems
