I was walking because I wasn't upstairs sitting. I could have been looking for pre-1900 gold coins in the woods all afternoon. What a way to make a living! The same mastodon was there only three hundred years from where I last saw him. I felt the sabers on the saber tooth, the hot wet breath on the back of my hand. Three deer and a number of crows, how many will remain undisclosed: It wasn't six and it wasn't thirty. There were four girls ranging back to 1957. The one before that just arrived upstairs. There was that long morose trip into the world hanging onto my skin for a quarter of a mile, shed with some difficulty. There was one dog, my own, and one grouse not my own. A strong wind flowed over and through us like dry water. I kissed a scar on a hip. I found a rotting crab apple and a distant relative to quartz. You could spend a lifetime and still not walk to an island. I met none of the dead today having released them yesterday at three o'clock. If you're going to make love to a woman you have to give her some of your heart. Else don't. If I had found a gold coin I might have left it there with my intermittent interest in money. The dead snipe wasn't in the same place but the rocks were. The apple tree was a good place to stand. Every late fall the deer come there for dessert. They will stand for days waiting for a single apple to tumble from the upmost limb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MORNING STAR by HARRIET R. BEAN THURSDAY IN HOLY WEEK by JOSEPH BEAUMONT AN OLD SONG by SOLOMON BLOOMGARDEN TO ENGLAND (2) by GEORGE HENRY BOKER POETICAL ADDRESS TO MR. WILLIAM TYTLER by ROBERT BURNS THE STREAM OF LIFE by ALICE CARY |