Jon Anderson Poems
|2.||Exiled On Mountain, Bewail Fate &Amp; Praise Autumn||1/13/2003|
|3.||The Secret Of Poetry||1/13/2003|
Elevators, like great oaks
rise into the evening, and when they descend
you hardly know yourself.
the fair, shadowed cab light
shone on the trucker's face. If only
he had learned to think like that!
Some extremes, but much benign lack of interest,
for which the heart gradually opens.
... patiently working, bringing cattle
from Denver, sorghum, oats,
butter, wheat and pigs from the Midwest,
steel bars, the body
with its different nightly smells ...
He wanted to walk the length of Kansas.
The years had not even been ...