ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 10

FRESH START
the author of many leaves...

I ASK YOU
what I am about to do and what...

untitled
The work defines itself, pulls itself...

LARRY MILLER
when you call back there to order the flowers...

ADDENDUM TO LARRY MILLER
punched him in the stomach once...

MY FORTY-NINTH BIRTHDAY
the balance point between years...

THE DROUGHT
if the drought means anything we haven't been told...

I SPEND
hours alone with my books...

SO FAR AS I CAN
the trees at night stretch out...

ANGEL MOUND
stone spades hammers awls...

untitled
sleep drunk from a glass of sleep...

EAST
East, innocence, enormous, a blush over half the sky. Now that...

WHAT IS FUCKED UP ABOUT THIS
is a question that can be answered...

CAN'T STOP TALKING
sat so still you noticed...

SETTLEMENT
1....

PAUSE ON THE ROAD IN CUMBERLAND GAP TENNESSEE
It was speed, the technology of rapidity, that made the nation pos-...

ON THE STAIRS IN THE DARK
it is late to be starting again...

THREE SLEEPS
a sleep that wanders...

WINTER PRAISES
of abandoned nests...

untitled
what will always be true?...

KEEPING AT IT
I recite the alphabet in the traditional way...

TALKING TO THE STONES
I am living before you dissolve...

NOT LAMENTING
a lament I am forbidden to speak...

A:
I think it's that I always had the feeling that what is really true,...

HAVE COME HERE
even when I'm late...

THE DAY AFTER THE DAY AFTER
a place in the paperwork...

7/25/00
beetles crushed between my fingers...

MY CURRENT MOOD
certain observations have broken their heads...

STILL
making no effort if I can...

GOLDFINCH ON A WIRE
black line in his feet...

SUMMER PRAISES
the ground-filling rain...

LISTENING TO
the music that keeps me up late...

THE STONE BOAT
that sled of thick oak planks...

DISAPPOINTMENT
under the shade of the words I wrote...

AUGUST
the fields with their fine catch...

AT THE ENCORE CAFE
with your roast potatoes...

WANDERING POEM
on the road...

MY VACANCY
the old hours come back...

untitled
I protest...

8/3/01
when I go inside...

ONE MOTION
swifts of the city come and go...

THE YEAR OF MY ABSENCE
a number of stones under my feet...

REFUSAL
I am awake now...

11/26/01
in the dark before dawn the stars...

WINTER GENESIS I
mornings on this stone seat...

WINTER GENESIS II
under cold tree branches stacked stones outline...

LARRY MILLER


when you call back there to order the flowers
they know how to spell R e n s b e r g e r
but listen politely when out of habit you rattle it off
and Much Love From Your Boyhood Friend
doesn't strike them as oldfashioned sentimental
they'll check about the viewing for you
and manage everything except connecting memory
with knowledge which is left to pain the usual

here's this for Larry:  always a fat kid but not soft
deepchested broadshouldered like his fierce St. Bernard
the family business was heavy equipment
backhoes bulldozers and the work they could do
his first vehicle was a red scooter lawnmower engine
pull the cord and go admirable to me the sixth grader already
doing tractor work but allowed only a bicycle for fun he rode
barefoot and used his feet for brakes even (I saw this) on gravel

last time I saw him was at grandma's house had to be
a decade ago he stood just inside the back door wouldn't
come further because of his muddy clothes well what I do
for fun now is mulepacking I come down your way
every summer go into the Hoosier National deep as we can get
stay there a week so quiet you don't hear any traffic
camp out no work nothing to do you should come along
sometime I'll call you sure love to sounds great IN MEMORIUM


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