Burial at sea
out on the water
rain is no making of a field
but a great kindness
when I die
who will offer any advice
what will be the question
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Moth parts
a moth cannot consider
what life she will lead
like my words let go at last
but not lost to the night
Inside/outside
much company in a little room
an old man sat boasting
how he had been in prison
and there was a field
with four horses
and the light of evening
Smoke
at the grave
marked with a red cross
I roll tobacco
Here and now
I do not give much belief to the news
writ so simply
made of nothing
who expects every hour
to be troubled with fear
or hope
now is not in a day or two
I look after it
my little lock
Stilled
where I am done
as the sea by a great calm
what words would break me
will I think them enemies
Strix
a god odd as the world
who practices that great joy
the owl is who I give ground to
Trappist
I mar my day
with discourse
busy as a night ear
Gloaming
with its yellow bird’s eye
the old garden
reading the book of night
Child artists
art that sings
we all unlearn to limn
beginning eyes
take great light
(Re)tired
off a little
the past I always have
at work in a factory
Axe handles
books give thorough direction
for the binding of books
O make my whole study the same
binding my hand to my hand
as ear to auditor
or hope to that old ache
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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