Robert Bly Poems
|1.||Driving through Minnesota During the Hanoi Bombings||5/20/2016|
|2.||Driving toward the Lac Qui Parle River||5/20/2016|
|3.||DRIVING WEST IN 1970||5/20/2016|
|4.||The Executive's Death||5/20/2016|
|5.||The Fat Old Couple Whirling Around||5/20/2016|
|6.||For the Old Gnostics||5/20/2016|
|7.||Living at the End of Time||5/20/2016|
|8.||Prayer for My Father||5/20/2016|
|9.||Ravens Hiding in a Shoe||5/20/2016|
|10.||Seeing the Eclipse in Maine||5/20/2016|
|11.||Wanting Sumptuous Heavens||5/20/2016|
|12.||The Great Society||8/17/2015|
|13.||Waking from Sleep||4/28/2015|
|14.||For My Son Noah, Ten Years Old||6/23/2015|
|15.||The Cat In The Kitchen||1/7/2015|
|16.||Gratitude To Old Teachers||12/12/2014|
|17.||A Month Of Happiness||12/18/2014|
A Month Of Happiness
A blind horse stands among cherry trees.
And bones shine from cool earth.
The heart leaps
Almost up to the sky! But laments
And filaments pull us back into the dark.
Night takes us. But
Comes out of the dark
To light the road. I'll be all right.
I follow my own fiery traces through the night.
The Cat In The Kitchen
Have you heard about the boy who walked by
The black water? I won't say much more.
Let's wait a few years. It wanted to be entered.
Sometimes a man walks by a pond, and a hand
Reaches out and pulls him in.
There was no
Intention, exactly. The pond was lonely, or needed
Calcium, bones would do. What happened then?
It was a little like the night wind, which is soft,