Under the great |
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Go Back Dream Land The Lambs of Grasmere, 1860 My Dream Praise of Little Women In Sodom The Wife of Lot Chicago Under the great Hymn to Aphrodite Casey Jones EccoShoes ClarkShoes ClarksShoes |
red heart of memories Under the great gray rain sheds of the sky, Under the open sun and the yellow gloaming embers. GirlsShoes ChildShoes WesternBoots Remember all paydays of lilacs and songbirds; All starlights of cool memories on storm paths. They speak to me. I can not tell you what they say. Other faces rise on the prairie. NewBalance Shoes Rainbow Vacume Timberlands Boots Orlandohotels Glazura i terakota They are unborn. The future. Yesterday and tomorrow cross and mix on the skyline. The two are lost in a purple haze. One forgets. One waits. In the yellow dust of sunsets, in the meadows of vermilion eight o'clock June nights . . . the dead men and the unborn children speak to me . . . I can not tell you what they say . . . you listen and you know. I don't care who you are, man: Deisel Shoes Converses Crocks Shoes I know a woman is looking for you And her soul is a corn-tassel kissing a west wind. (The farm-boy whose face is the color of brick-dust, is calling the cows; he will form the letter X with crossed streams of milk from the teats; he will beat a tattoo on the bottom of a tin pail with X's of milk.) I don't care who you are, man: MensShoes Heely Shoes Lacross Boots I know sons and daughters looking for you And they are gray dust working toward star paths And you see them from a garret window when you laugh At your luck and murmur, "I don't care." Cole Hahn Shoes Dansko Outlet Naturalizer Boots I don't care who you are, woman: I know a man is looking for you And his soul is a south-west wind kissing a corn-tassel. Naturlizer Shoes Timberlend Boots Skecher Shoes Skechers Airators (The kitchen girl on the farm is throwing oats to the chickens and the buff of their feathers says hello to the sunset's late maroon.) I don't care who you are, woman: I know sons and daughters looking for you Birkenstok DWS Shoes Heely Shoes Uggs Boots My love is a yellow hammer spinning circles in Ohio, Indiana. My love is a redbird shooting flights in straight lines in Kentucky and Tennessee. My love is an early robin flaming an ember of copper on her shoulders in March and April. My love is a graybird living in the eaves of a Michigan house all winter. Why is my love always a crying thing of wings? On the Indiana dunes, in the Mississippi marshes, I have asked: Is it only a fishbone on the beach? Is it only a dog's jaw or a horse's skull whitening in the sun? Is the red heart of man only ashes? Is the flame of it all a white light switched off and the power-house wires cut? Why do the prairie roses answer every summer? Why do the changing repeating rains come back out of the salt sea wind-blown? Why do the stars keep their tracks? Why do the cradles of the sky rock new babies? |