Amy Clampitt

(15 June 1920 - 10 September 1994 / New Providence, Iowa)

Amy Clampitt Poems

1. Athena 2/10/2015
2. Brought From Beyond 4/20/2010
3. A Cure At Porlock 4/20/2010
4. Salvage 1/13/2003
5. A Catalpa Tree On West Twelfth Street 1/13/2003
6. A Hedge Of Rubber Trees 1/13/2003
7. Exmoor 1/13/2003
8. Nothing Stays Put 1/13/2003
9. Gradual Clearing 1/20/2003
10. A Hermit Thrush 1/13/2003
11. Syrinx 1/13/2003
12. On The Disadvantages Of Central Heating 1/13/2003
13. Easter Morning 1/13/2003
14. The Sun Underfoot Among The Sundews 1/13/2003
15. A Silence 1/13/2003
16. Fog 1/13/2003
17. Vacant Lot With Pokeweed 1/13/2003
18. Beach Glass 1/13/2003
Best Poem of Amy Clampitt

Beach Glass

While you walk the water's edge,
turning over concepts
I can't envision, the honking buoy
serves notice that at any time
the wind may change,
the reef-bell clatters
its treble monotone, deaf as Cassandra
to any note but warning. The ocean,
cumbered by no business more urgent
than keeping open old accounts
that never balanced,
goes on shuffling its millenniums
of quartz, granite, and basalt.
It behaves
toward the permutations of novelty—
driftwood and shipwreck, last night's
beer cans, spilt oil, the coughed-up
residue of ...

Read the full of Beach Glass

A Hedge Of Rubber Trees

The West Village by then was changing; before long
the rundown brownstones at its farthest edge
would have slipped into trendier hands. She lived,
impervious to trends, behind a potted hedge of
rubber trees, with three cats, a canary—refuse
from whose cage kept sifting down and then
germinating, a yearning seedling choir, around
the saucers on the windowsill—and an inexorable
cohort of roaches she was too nearsighted to deal

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