After the lean road looping the narrow river, At a break in the valley, turned northward up the coulee, Past the slow shallows where minnows, a tin flash Patterned the trellised shadow. Then, leaving behind the last trees, The spider sun laid on the hot face a tight miraculous web. Northward then. All afternoon beneath my feet the ground gave Uneven going. The colorless silence, unraveled by the flies, Stitched again by the locusts, was heard, was smelled -- Swamp-smell, dead coulee water. And the easy hills, Burnt brown, green, grass color, went on through the afternoon, Then blue-gray in the blue shadow. The path went on. Darkness hid in the draws. I was soon surrounded. Only the wind sound now. All through the evening, Homeward I walk, hearing no human sound. The birds of darkness sang back every call. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JUST & UNJUST by CHARLES SYNGE CHRISTOPHER BOWEN ONCE BEFORE by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE ON A LUTE FOUND IN A SARCOPHAGUS by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE THE VOICELESS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES REVERY by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD THE STUPID OLD BODY by EDWARD CARPENTER THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN: 7. THE LEGEND OF PHILOMELA by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |