Monday, May 18, 2015

A Poem By James Wright

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Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm


Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow.   

Down the ravine behind the empty house,   

The cowbells follow one another   

Into the distances of the afternoon.   

To my right,

In a field of sunlight between two pines,   

The droppings of last year’s horses   

Blaze up into golden stones.

I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.   

A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.

I have wasted my life.



James Wright is the father of  Franz Wright. 
They are the only Father/Son to both
win the Pulitzer Prize for poetry.

When Franz read his first poem to his father,

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