ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

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  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 7

TRIPLE OUGHT
we have endured...

TURN OR BE TURNED
waking...

untitled
I am...

WEAK
my ill-rising...

FIRST DAY OF SPRING A BLIZZARD VISITS US
this last snow's weight and power...

BOOK OF THE DAY
a version of no corrections...

SNOWFALL
a cancel of...

HERE, YOU
valley of the powerless...

untitled
the minutes...

NOTES IN HIS OWN HAND
About the destroying condition....

NEIGHBORLY
our day...

untitled
out of the door...

JUST BARELY
here it is difficult...

untitled
quoted before I speak...

TRUE
time to notice...

POINT OUT
here is an impossibility...

COMPANY
there is a quiet before I speak...

HEARTENED
almost midnight...

IN PROCESS
giving thanks or sass...

CONTINUANCE
a face to look into for...

STRUGGLE TO UNDERSTAND
fresh tears...

PRAYER
heart made of dirt...

MONDAY
the call to remind me...

JUST LIKE ME
trying to move sideways...

HOW IT IS
the old smile...

THUNDERSTORM LIGHTNING FLASHES
the storm's welcome...

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AT LEAST ONE PERSON
a shell game in which...

FOR THOSE LYING WAKEFUL AS IT STORMS
thunder off in the distance...

4/22/96
press of rain...

CONSCIOUSNESS
what grabs it...

CLEAR DARK
there should be...

untitled
see what...

START OF THE DAY
tight...

ADDRESSING YOU
if you are staring at me...

untitled
the strange diction...

untitled
3 a.m. an owl calls out...

WEATHER REPORT
showers and thundershowers...

NOTATION
I allow myself to be influenced. It is ...

WHEN YOU
arrive in ocean a wave arises inside you...

THEFT OF LINES FROM CERNUDA
Sleep...

10/20/96
my circles run through the woods...

untitled
held up my empty secrets...

THE FEELING OF IT
North begins hereabouts...

TIME TO GO
winter light...

A PLACE
it closes to them...

CLOSING MY EYES
as I die...

STORY ABOUT SAFETY
the wind up...

untitled
a voice in the room...

11/19/96
words rest...

untitled
clouds form...

POEM OF SLEEP
sky mists...

MUSIC
a music that makes me...

WHEN I READ
I read to keep steady...

SOS
the page shifts no rest a sea...

NOW REMEMBERING
the rain cuts...

CARRIED
I give up on my fingers...

HAWK
strong hunter...

OVER AND OUT
crossing over the creek bed...

TIME TO GO


winter light
roads dim in the fog
trees hold up their evidence
a voice going home
on the gravel lanes led
by deviations written
on the inner bark of sycamores

the crows fly over
they are like us though
their words are higher in the air
and not so easily lost
what happens to a feather
they shed is it drifts
till something catches it
or something else wants
to bear it away

we should get going
the voice will be there before us
we can hold hands
the going will be easier
the chill will leave us

if necessary we can sing
not so far now
pick up your feet
and go singing
the best help is no help
and we struggle so much
our beauty has trouble with us


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