Voyages (Philip Levine Poems)
Pond snipe, bleached pine, rue weed, wart -- I walk by sedge and brown river rot to where the old ...
Pond snipe, bleached pine, rue weed, wart -- I walk by sedge and brown river rot to where the old ...
All afternoon my father drove the country roads between Detroit and Lansing. What he was looking for I never learned, ...
A blue jay poses on a stake meant to support an apple tree newly planted. A strong wind on this ...
This harpie with dry red curls talked openly of her husband, his impotence, his death, the death of her lover, ...
3-foot blue cannisters of nitro along a conveyor belt, slow fish speaking the language of silence. On the roof, I ...
"I've been where it hurts." the Kid He becomes Sierra Kid I passed Slimgullion, Morgan Mine, Camp Seco, and the ...
You pull over to the shoulder of the two-lane road and sit for a moment wondering where you were going ...
She wakens early remembering her father rising in the dark lighting the stove with a match scraped on the floor. ...
The stone says "Coors" The gay carpet says "Camels" Spears of dried grass The little sticks the children gathered The ...
Out of burlap sacks, out of bearing butter, Out of black bean and wet slate bread, Out of the acids ...
A solitary apartment house, the last one before the boulevard ends and a dusty road winds its slow way out ...
19 years old and going nowhere, I got a ride to Bessemer and walked the night road toward Birmingham passing ...
The air lay soffly on the green fur of the almond, it was April and I said, I begin again ...
When the Lieutenant of the Guardia de Asalto heard the automatic go off, he turned and took the second shot ...
Numb, stiff, broken by no sleep, I keep night watch. Looking for signs to quiet fear, I creep closer to ...
Dawn coming in over the fields of darkness takes me by surprise and I look up from my solitary road ...
He made a line on the blackboard, one bold stroke from right to left diagonally downward and stood back to ...
The magpie in the Joshua tree Has come to rest. Darkness collects, And what I cannot hear or see, Broken ...
Look, the eucalyptus, the Atlas pine, the yellowing ash, all the trees are gone, and I was older than all ...
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