ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 13

HAVING FOLLOWED MY HEART TILL ITS
give me...


EXPLANATION
gravity's open mouth...


THE RAIN
if it was going to happen...


TWO MEN
the man bending over sweeping dust...


10/1/04
a silence has come into the cornfields...


CERTAINTY
what lies beneath gravity...


untitled
it takes courage...


ITS USE
I turn and pick up...


WHEN WE LIVE
the world drops...


HANDS
I look in my hands...


10/26/04
while the fields are browning...


AFTER THE GREEN HAS GONE
rain through the trees...


HARVESTS AND STONE
surrounded by harvests...


FROM MY DIARY
early long lines...


FIRST WEEK OF NOVEMBER
the sky crowded with gray...


POEM WITH QUESTION MARKS
turn around at the warning sign?...


IN THE GREAT BEWILDERMENT
just as in a set of words...


11/14/04
moth so small it nearly escapes notice...


CODA
moth so small it nearly escapes notice...


STARTLED
I hadn't gone three steps before the mocking began. The bell...


LOOKING BACK
we die of everything...


TOWARDS SOLSTICE
this long night no dark...


POINTS IN THE VAST
in this dark you see...


TO DEAD PLANETS
this cold house...


MY SNOW JOURNEY
just keep walking...


LATE WINTER
my stiff legs on these winter stairs...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM STEVENS
looking up at the cloud covered sky...


HOMELAND
our inland waters slide...


SECURITY
on the way to...


2/18/05
seen from the shadow side...


CERTAIN ONES HAVE SHOWN
their heads through the dirt...


SOME EVENTS
some flakes on the way down stopped by...


untitled
what...


COLD BLUE
of the jay's back...


SIGHT
between one minute before...


untitled
that look he had...


DOWNSLOPE
the years grown...


EQUIVALENCE
in a mirror...


LOOKED UP
the dark wing...


CROWS
the call wordless...


3/29/05
the day made dimmer...


ITS FIELDS
green wing of the hill...


TO HOME
the country you came from...


THE GREAT COLLECTION
seen in weak light riding...


IT'S SENTIMENTAL BUT TRUE, I LOVE THE SPRING
branches...


THOUGH I STARTED TO SAY THEIR
I should have said...


THEFT OF A LINE FROM BLY
cold morning but he hardly noticed...


4/20/05
white hands of the dogwood...


IF GOD IS LOVE
and love is a consuming force...


ONCE AND AGAIN
the statues are not statues...


THERE
in that place...


7/4/05
the sun behind my back lights...


AFTER COMPLAINING FOR DAYS OF THE HEAT
rain and cooler weather...


IT'S TOO HOT IN THE HOUSE
I'll sweat in the shade outside...


HISTORY
once we could hear each other...


JULY
the green trees...


untitled
after rising...

FOR SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE


I wear my pants
but my shoes are in my hand
I search my eyes in the mirror

for reverence and knowledge
I make my face hard as a frame
so my eyes in turn can be a mirror

they are brown and brown
they are bright in their sockets
when they are ready I put on my shirt

like the people of Thana
I am preparing myself to worship
the first thing I see in the morning
       ___________________

the door is guardian
to my tender hellos and farewells
and I worship the wood and the brass

the knob can latch or unlatch
so I must touch it and acknowledge
its usefulness for my staying or my leaving

which is holy either way
but the leaving is more likely
to make me love what is inside my house

the second thing I see
is the honeysuckle bush untended
so that it reaches out and up like a man

praising what he has
before him what he takes
into his mind to keep it right

in May the bush flowers
the scent goes blowing out
the bees are there in their hundreds

but the flowers
are there in thousands
and overwhelm the senses

of the bees and me
because it is of such value
I am sure the bush does the gods' will

and they love its scattered effects
as they do the teem of stars and planets
running circuits of praise in the fields of the night

or the face of the great sun
loving to give its heat to the creatures
who turn their prayers to the warm good above them
       _________________

and so I worship
things in the order I see them
I remember that Adam and Eve wept 100 years
         
after Paradise
till they filled a lake
at the top of a high mountain
         
and in the reeds
growing all round the lake
live crocodiles and other snakes
         
and at the bottom
mud like in any lake
only thicker and blacker
         
it smells like roses
there are precious stones in it
and pearls and gems like mens' eyes