Spring 1965 • Vol. XXVII No. 2 Poetry |

“Such an Adam as He Is in the Motions”

  The south dreamed me that day I climbed, in cloud, to a summer spun of leaves where leaves spread lakes around the boles of trees     and shine back to the sky     water on water! and every thing climbing through to the sun, fiber and whisper hot and to the sense still, and all so shot   with gold, the eyes ring!   Oh never in that tangle dark: green seed burst open, roots rising like fingers through the air, every pale blaze     a bed of eyes: pearl, serpent, gull     waved on the same limb of sunlight! —Breath held me there, what sick leaf ripped loose, flake of chill ticked off a winter clock, taught me falling   sunless, to my   life ?

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  The south dreamed me that day I climbed, in cloud, to a summer spun of leaves where leaves spread lakes around the boles of trees     and shine back to the […]

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  The south dreamed me that day I climbed, in cloud, to a summer spun of leaves where leaves spread lakes around the boles of trees     and shine back to the […]

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