1994, 7,308 words

The ragged sparks blew down the wind. The prairie about them lay silent. Beyond the fire was the cold and the night was clear and the stars were falling. The old hunter pulled his blanket about him. I wonder if there's other worlds like this, he said. Or if this is the only one.
Cormac McCarthy


The Glass Machine

Poem Begun With A Line From A Dream

The Empty Sunlight
The Birch Leaves
New Moon In July
The Lynx In The Rapids
Rain Haiku
Time Travel
The Pines
Ghost Catchers
Ring Of Shadows
The Fossil Forest Of Axel Heiberg
Wind Angels
Demon Pond
The Watchers By The Pond
The Clouds
Winter Solstice
At The Department Store
Winter Hawk
Orion 2.7 K

Artifacts Of Silence
White Sands
Train Song
The World Poem
Night Wind
Litany Of Attributes
Hollow Wind, Empty Stars
Monkey Light
Norge Union
The Blue Windy Day
World M95ED
The Beach
The Woman
World H26L3
Seven Electrical Angels
World H10B7
Line gauge
World K37Y9

Poem Begun With A Line From A Dream

The windows of your shutters halfway down
cried to me the life of the child.
You are not so old
that you cannot lie naked
in the autumn leaves.
Even now, in such raw spring
as conjoins the end of winter
with the first flowers
we speak of the dread pools.
For the sun is a windy object
and its poetry free of device.
In my mind the leaves
have already opened.

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