Gwenda says it's poetry day, and I'm sorry that I don't have anything startling and unexpected for you, though I was certainly startled by this James Wright poem in the summer of 1996, when Richard Poss gave it to me at Clarion West. Thanks, Richard Poss.


Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy's Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota

Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly
Asleep on the black trunk,
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year's horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.

-- James Wright