Frowning Wit/9 Otnem
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frowning Wit/9 Otnem P O E M S B " Ja mes D ickey W E S L E Y A N U N I " E R S I T " P R E S S Middle to w n Co nn e cticut , 1 8 1 1 60 1 6 1 1 6 2 Dick e . Copyright 95 , 959 , 9 , 9 , 9 by James y m o ng the po ems in this vo lume are a number that have previo usly bee n in ful ck o w l m e m to Th e A tlant r te d elsewhere . Grate a n edg nts are ade i o nthl Ch o ce En co unte r Hu so n Re v e w " e n o n Re v e w Par tisa y , i , , d i , y i , e vie w Po e tr Po e tr D al uar te r l Re v e w o L te r atur e Se w an e , y , y i , Q y i f i , e vie w " r n a uar te r l Re v e w "ale Re v e w l o to Th e Ne , i gi i Q y i , and i ; a s "o r ke r o a s fo llo w o m fi e : Au m , in wh se p ge the ing p e s rst app ared tu n, ” “ A B Fo r N l A c o f H O o n O e Fo irth, the ight y s ent the unter ri v r a res ” “ ” “ ” “ l H o fA m l In Mo u n T In th earing , The eaven ni a s , the ntai ent, ” “ ” “ i ” “ r e e Ho use N L f L e to Fo xho unds at ight, The i eguard , ist ning , Th ” “ m f ” ” Ma Mo o F S l M . gus , The ve ent ish, and The a t arsh — Library ofCongress Catalo g Card Numbe r : 62 105 70 Manufacture d in the Un ite d States ofAme rica First p r inting Fe bruary 19 62; second p rinting Nove mbe r 19 63 ; third p r inting No vem be r 19 65 fourth p rinting O cto be r 19 66; th t n De e m e r 19 67 fif p r in i g c b . Contents SECTIO N I Th e Life g uard 1 1 Liste n ing to F o x h o unds 1 3 A Dog Sle e p ing o n my F e e t 1 5 Th e Mo ve m e n t o fFish 1 7 The H e ave n o fA nim als 1 9 A Birth 2 1 F o g Enve lo ps th e An im als 2 2 The Summ o ns 2 4 In th e Tr e e H o use at Nig ht 2 6 F o r the Nig h tly A s ce n t o fth e H un te r O rio n o ve r a F o r e st ' Cle arin g 2 8 Th e Rib 30 Th e O w l " ing 32 SECTIO N II ‘ Be twe e n Tw o Priso ne rs 43 A rm o n : 45 In th e L up anar at Po mp e ii 47 Dr o w n ing With O th e rs 49 A "ie w o fFujiy am a Afte r th e W ar Th e Island 5 3 SECTIO N III D o ve r : B e lie ving in " ing s 5 7 To His Childr e n in Darkn e ss 64 A Scr e e ne d P o r ch in th e Co un try 66 Th e Dre am Flo o d 68 Th e Scratch 70 H un ting Civil War Re lics at Nimble w ill Cr e e k The Tw in Falls 74 Th e H o spital Windo w 75 SECTIO N I" Th e Mag us 79 A n tip o lis 8 0 Th e Chan g e 8 2 A utumn 8 3 Sn o w o n a So uthe r n State : 84 T L rum Gu B e innin to Write at o and y , g g Fa cing Africa 89 Inside th e Rive r 9 1 T ' T T " Th e Salt Marsh 9 3 In th e Mo un tain Te n t 95 Se ctio n I The Life guard In a stable of boats I lie still , From all sleeping children hidden . The leap of a fish from its shadow Makes the whole lake instantly tremble . With my foot on the water , I feel The moon outside Take on the utmost of its power . I rise and go out through the boats . I set my broad sole upon silver, On the skin of the sky , on the moonlight, Stepping outward from earth onto water In quest of the miracle This village of children believed That I could perform as I dived For one who had sunk from my sight . ‘ I saw his cropped haircut go under . I leapt , and my steep body flashed Once, in the sun . D ark drew all the light from my eyes . Like a man who explores h l S death - By the pull of his slow moving shoulders , w in I hung head do n the cold , - Wide eyed , contained , and alone d Among the wee s , And my fingertips turned into stone m From clutching i movable blackness . Time after time I leapt upward Exploding in breath , and fell back From the change in faces At my defeat . Beneath them I swam to the boathouse With only my life in my arms I I To wait for the lake to shine back At the risen moon with such power That my steps on the light of the ripples Might be sustained . Beneath me is nothing but brightness Like the ghos of a snowfield in summer . t , As I move toward the center of the lake , th e Which is also center of the moon , I am thinking of how I may be The savior of one Who has already died in my care . The dark trees fade from around me . ’ T e h m o o n s dust hovers together . c ’ I all softly out, and the child s " oice answers through blinding water . Patiently , slowly , l He rises , di ating to break The surface of stone with his forehead . He is one I do not remember Having ever seen in his life . The ground I stand on is trembling Upon his smile . I wash the black mud fro m my hands . On a light given o ffby the grave I kneel in the quick of the moon At the heart o fa distant forest And hold in my arms a child t . Of water , water , wa er I 2 £iste ning to Fo x h o unds When in that gold Of fires , quietly sitting With the men whose brothers are houn ds You hear the first tone Of a dog on scent, you look from face To face , to see whose will light up . When that light comes n I side the dark light of the fire , You know which chosen man has heard A thing like his own dead v v Speak out in a mar elous , helpless oice That he has been straining to hear . Miles away in the dark His en chanted dog can sense ’ u v How his feat res glow like a sa ior s , And begin s to hunt In r a frenzy of despe ate pride . ’ o ff Among us , no one s eyes give a light For the red fox an d Playing in out of his scent, b b v . Leaping stones , do u ling ack o er water Who runs with - the fox Must sit here l ike his own image; Giving n othing of himself n v To the se siti e flames , n u With no human j oy risi g p , Coming out of his face to be seen . And it is hard , 1 3 When the fox leaps into his burrow, To keep that singing down , To sit with the fire D ’ rawn into one s secret features , And all eyes turning around From the dark wood e Until they come , amaz d , upon A face that does not shine Back from itself, That holds its own light and takes more , t e Like the face of h dead , sitting still , v Gi ing no sign , Making no outcry , no matter Who may be straining to hear . I 4 A Do g Sle e ping o n my Fe e t Being his resting place , I do not even tense The muscles of a leg Or I would seem to be changing . Instead , I turn the page Of the notebook , carefully not Remembering what I have written For now, with my feet beneath him D ying like embers , The poem is beginning to move Up through my pine -prickling legs Out of the night wood , Taking hold of the pen by my fingers . Before me the fox floats lightly , On fire with his holy scent . n . All , all are ru ning v Mar elous is the pursuit, Like a dazzle of nails through the ankles ' Like a twisting sho ut thr o ugh the trees Sent after the flying fox Through the holes of logs , over streams - Stock still with the pressure of moonlight .