Woods (Wendell Berry Poem)
I part the out thrusting branches and come in beneath the blessed and the blessing trees. Though I am silent ...
I part the out thrusting branches and come in beneath the blessed and the blessing trees. Though I am silent ...
ALL that I serve will die, all my delights, the flesh kindled from my flesh, garden and field, the silent ...
The hill pasture, an open place among the trees, tilts into the valley. The clovers and tall grasses are in ...
Love the quick profit, the annual raise, vacation with pay. Want more of everything ready-made. Be afraid to know your ...
In a dream I meet my dead friend. He has, I know, gone long and far, and yet he is ...
I He wakes in darkness. All around are sounds of stones shifting, locks unlocking. As if some one had lifted ...
The Grower of Trees, the gardener, the man born to farming, whose hands reach into the ground and sprout to ...
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