James Arlington Wright (13 December 1927 – 25 March 1980 / Ohio)
The moon drops one or two feathers into the fiels.
The dark wheat listens.
There they are, the moon's young, trying
Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow
Of her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is gone
Wholly, into the air.
I stand alone by an elder tree, I do not dare breathe
The wheat leans back toward its own darkness,
And I lean toward mine.
Poet Other Poems
- A Blessing
- A Mad Fight Song For William S. Carpente...
- A Note Left in Jimmy Leonard's Shack
- A Poem About George Doty in the Death Ho...
- A Secret Gratitude
- A Way To Make A Living
- A Winter Daybreak Above Vence
- As I Step Over A Puddle At The End Of Wi...
- At the Executed Murderer's Grave
- Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio
- Bologna: A Poem About Gold
- Depressed by a Book of Bad Poetry, I Wal...
- Fear Is What Quickens Me
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.