Julian Mann Poems
Comments about Julian Mann
After the deers' racket
Across the lane, I came down it
Sensing something like
The edge of berries.
If I only thought it,
It was the wind before me
Sweeping through the dead yellow
An idea of ripeness, into the air.
Later I knew it was mine
If I wanted, under a farm avenue tree
Of shed and new starts,
A green way dithering
Between shores of leaves.
All day were there little glows
About the air, before lawn and lane,
With the wind a force of autumn
And trees keening to light in the swell.
There were ...
My Roving Art
With an infant's joy I view the brook,
Its many wonders pass my eye:
A restless leaf the land forsook;
Ripples that beg the wind's reply.
I long to walk its banks by night,
And hear the waters trickle then;
Doubtless sweeter in sound and sight
As moonlight graces every bend.