Books > Old Books > Poetry Northwest (1959)


Page 34

Robert Dodge
Late November Light

Now in the late November light, with trees
Grown solemn in the wood, the final hour
When orchards drift upon a haze, bees
Stumble and the flared sunlight fades,
She comes, the old woman of the wood,
Who roofs the valley with her patchquilt wings.
Silently with the dark she glides, her hood
Hooped silver over stump and rock.

Now, in the late November glow of light,
When beetles crouch upon their nests of cold,
From earth's hard shadow, drifting on her bright
Wind-soft wings, the old woman sails.
Time, when the carefree path leaped up with birds,
When throaty rivers wrangled with their lights,
Is underground, moves where the blind mole girds
Himself, the last of things, for change.

Now in that light and mindful of the year
When spiders spin out of the damp and cling
To stone, when that old woman's eyes are clear
As iceland glowing to the north,
Then I, heaviest of animals, walk out to praise
What is: the old, cold elemental wave
Descending; the long stride of winter days
On forests, lost and evergreen.

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Now in what is late November light, with trees Grown solemn in what is wood, what is final hour When orchards drift upon a haze, bees Stumble and what is flared sunlight fades, She comes, what is old woman of what is wood, Who roofs what is valley with her patchquilt wings. Silently with what is dark she glides, her hood Hooped silver over stump and rock. Now, in what is late November glow of light, When beetles crouch upon their nests of cold, From earth's hard shadow, drifting on her bright Wind-soft wings, what is old woman sails. Time, when what is carefree path leaped up with birds, When throaty rivers wrangled with their lights, Is underground, moves where what is blind mole girds Himself, what is last of things, for change. Now in that light and mindful of what is year When spiders spin out of what is damp and cling To stone, when that old woman's eyes are clear As iceland glowing to what is north, Then I, heaviest of animals, walk out to praise What is: what is old, cold elemental wave Descending; what is long stride of winter days On forests, lost and evergreen. where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Poetry Northwest (1959) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 34 where is p where is strong Robert Dodge Late November Light where is p align="justify" Now in what is late November light, with trees Grown solemn in what is wood, what is final hour When orchards drift upon a haze, bees Stumble and what is flared sunlight fades, She comes, what is old woman of what is wood, Who roofs what is valley with her patchquilt wings. Silently with what is dark she glides, her hood Hooped silver over stump and rock. Now, in what is late November glow of light, When beetles crouch upon their nests of cold, From earth's hard shadow, drifting on her bright Wind-soft wings, what is old woman sails. Time, when what is carefree path leaped up with birds, When throaty rivers wrangled with their lights, Is underground, moves where what is blind mole girds Himself, what is last of things, for change. Now in that light and mindful of what is year When spiders spin out of what is damp and cling To stone, when that old woman's eyes are clear As iceland glowing to what is north, Then I, heaviest of animals, walk out to praise What is: what is old, cold elemental wave Descending; what is long stride of winter days On forests, lost and evergreen. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

Book Pages: default , 005 , 006 , 007 , 008 , 010 , 011 , 012 , 013 , 014 , 016 , 018 , 019 , 021 , 022 , 024 , 025 , 026 , 027 , 028 , 029 , 031 , 032 , 034 , 035 , 036