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in plain air 141
the shadows black and sharp in a face now
papery skin over bird-bone; here's
a condescending introduction by a principal
silly ass of the current literary scene.
Never mind, never mind! it chill
and nearly dark now, and you the vesper sparrow
still twittering! no matter that the twittering's weak
and repetitive, in the black locust tree
that holds its thorny old branches, iron hard, above
the frozen ground you criss-crossed when young; winter fi elds,
bare and rolling, run to the dark East, where shines
through trees a long familiar house light;
but here, it's just you and the dusk, and a gaunt God
with his speculations, joining you now -- the three
of you plenty of company for one another.
the fall plowing back home
Young, and I burned the world away
Ahead of me, anywhere I went,
With my personal blaze.
Now the world is fi lling back in.
How I like the plain details,
Complete with shadows, in the low sunlight.
When did I empty? -- it's as quiet in here
As a cobweb furred with dust.
Let the harness on its peg