James Dickey Poems
|2.||At Darien Bridge||4/22/2010|
|4.||Bums On Waking||4/22/2010|
|6.||Creation Made Like Hope||4/22/2010|
|8.||For The Last Wolverine||4/22/2010|
|9.||Hunting Civil War Relics At Nimblewill Creek||5/7/2012|
|10.||In The Marble Quarry||4/22/2010|
|11.||In The Tree House At Night||4/22/2010|
|12.||Pursuit From Under||4/22/2010|
|14.||The Dusk Of Horses||5/7/2012|
|15.||The Heaven Of Animals||3/5/2006|
|16.||The Hospital Window||4/22/2010|
|19.||The Shark's Parlor||4/22/2010|
|21.||The Strength Of Fields||4/22/2010|
Comments about James Dickey
The Heaven Of Animals
Here they are. The soft eyes open.
If they have lived in a wood
It is a wood.
If they have lived on plains
It is grass rolling
Under their feet forever.
Having no souls, they have come,
Anyway, beyond their knowing.
Their instincts wholly bloom
And they rise.
The soft eyes open.
To match them, the landscape flowers,
Outdoing what is required:
The richest wood,
The deepest field.
For some of these,
It could not be the place
It is, without blood.
These hunt, as they have done,
But with claws and...
Bums On Waking
Bums, on waking,
Do not always find themselves
In gutters with water running over their legs
And the pillow of the curbstone
Turning hard as sleep drains from it.
Mostly, they do not know
But hope for where they shall come to.
The opening of the eye is precious,