Beginning by James Wright

The moon drops one or two feathers into the fields.
The dark wheat listens.
Be still.
Now.There they are,
the moon's young,
Their wings.
Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely
Of her face,
and now she steps into the air,
now she is gone
Wholly, into the air.
I stand alone by an elder tree,
I do not dare breathe
Or move.
I listen.
The wheat leans back toward its own darkness,
And I lean toward mine.


  1. Stunning photo and a beautiful poem. Have a wonderful weekend!

  2. Wonderful poem! And I love the way the image, also amazing, compliments the poem so well. Thanks for sharing this.


  3. There was a festival for James Wright held in Martin's Ferry many years ago. Many of we poets used to travel many miles to attend. It was held in the local library.World class poets would read, there was tremendous food. People who remembered James Wright and poetry for poet's sake, would attend. I feel his grace in the world should never be forgotten or we lose something important concerning humanity.


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