THE POET'S QUARRY

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It is at last any morning not answering to a name I wake before there is light hearing once more that same  music without repetition or begi...

  If we are separated, I will try to wait for you on your side of things your side of the wall and the water and of the light moving at its ...

 

  In the first chamber of the heart all the gloves are hanging but two the hands are bare as they come through the door the bell rope is mov...

all the flowers are forms of water the sun reminds them through a white cloud  see how they wake without a question even though the whole wo...

Through the trees and across the river with its surface the color of steel on a rainy morning late in spring the splintered skyline ...

All day the stars watch from long ago my mother said I am going now when you are alone you will be all right whether or not you...

Remember how the naked soul comes to language and at once knows loss and distance and believing then for a time it will not run with i...