James Still Poems

This is the answer to all centuries
That spawn new life and grind it into dust.
This is the solved equation of the heart
Bound in arrogance between fettering rust
...

Let this hill rest...
Let the roots crawl into this failing earth,
Let the leaf fall, let day descend
On untilled slopes. Let the oak's girth
...

I was born humble. At the foot of mountains
My face was set upon the immensity of earth
And stone; and upon oaks full-bodied and old.
There is so much writ upon the parchment of leaves,
...

A lot goes on behind my back.
A row of icicles pulling at the eaves
Grew three inches before I thought to look;
A snow falling an evening through
...