--Anne Waldman

Awake in a giant night
is where I am
                   There is a river where my soul,   
hungry as a horse drinks beside me

An hour of immense possibility flies by   
and I do nothing but sit in the present   
which keeps changing moment to moment

How can I tell you my mind is a blanket?

It is an amazing story you won’t believe   
and a beautiful land
where something is always doing in the barns   
especially in autumn
                         Sliding down the hayrick!

By March the sun is lingering and the land turns wet

Brooks grow loud
The eddies fill with green scum   
Crocuses lift their heads to say hello

Soon it is good to be planting
By then the woods are overflowing
with dogwood, redbud, hickory, red and white oaks,   
hazelnut bushes, violets, jacks-in-the-pulpit,   
skunk cabbages, pawpaws and May apples
whose names thrill you because you can name them!

There are quail and rabbits too—but I go on too long

Like the animal, I must stop by the water’s edge   
to have a drink and think things over


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