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Good Books...

...you should read. And other important stuff.

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  • Driving through the Wind River Reservation: A Poem of Black Bear

    In the time of snow, in the time of sleep. The rivers themselves changed into links of white iron, holding everything. Once she woke deep in the leaves under the fallen tree and peered through the loose bark and saw him: a tall white bone with thick shoulders, like a wrestler, roaring the saw-toothed...
    Posted to Music to my ears (Forum) by Jon on 04-30-2009
  • The House

    It grows larger, wall after wall sliding on some miraculous arrangement of panels, blond and weightless as balsa, making space for windows, alcoves, more rooms, stairways and passages, all bathed in light, with here and there the green flower of a tree, vines, streams casually breaking through… what...
    Posted to Music to my ears (Forum) by Jon on 04-17-2009
  • The Journey

    One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice-- though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. "Mend my life!" each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though...
    Posted to Music to my ears (Forum) by Jon on 04-14-2009
  • Poem (The spirit likes to dress up)

    The spirit likes to dress up like this: ten fingers, ten toes, shoulders, and all the rest at night in the black branches, in the morning in the blue branches of the world. It could float, of course, but would rather plumb rough matter. Airy and shapeless thing, it needs the metaphor of the body, lime...
    Posted to Music to my ears (Forum) by Jon on 03-20-2009
  • Wild Geese

    You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear...
    Posted to Music to my ears (Forum) by Jon on 03-04-2009
  • Dreams

    All night the dark buds of dreams open richly. In the center of every petal is a letter, and you imagine if you could only remember and string them all together they would spell the answer. It is a long night, and not an easy one-- you have so many branches, and there are diversions-- birds that come...
    Posted to Music to my ears (Forum) by Jon on 03-04-2009
  • Mary Oliver

    Mary Oliver
    Posted to Music to my ears (Forum) by Jon on 03-04-2009
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