AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune--I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Strong and content, I travel the open road.
The earth--that is sufficient;
I do not want the constellations any nearer;
......
I
1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
3 Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
4 Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6 Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
7 Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
......
From ocean's wave a Wanderer came,
With visage tanned and dun:
His Mother, when he told his name,
Scarce knew her long-lost son;
So altered was his face and frame
By the ill course he had run.
There was hot fever in his blood,
And dark thoughts in his brain;
And oh! to turn his heart to good
......
The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behind the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
......
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.
......
On the silent night roof, I asked a question to the sky that stretched like an old wound that never healed.
"Why is this world so quiet even though it is full of screams?"
"Why is justice only a shadow, while injustice sits on a magnificent throne?"
The sky was silent.
The stars twinkled as if avoiding me.
The clouds passed without any intention of explaining.
The wind just passed by, like a friend who didn't know what to say.
I kept asking—until my heart became an echo that bounced into my own chest.
......
Phoebe and her brother and sisters loved to play, like capricious wind;
And many robust children lived nearby, like green nature, an old friend.
The Clarks lived in town, like turquoise neptune, in caramel sun orbit;
And also relied upon retiring early, to enable early rising. Dewy carpets!
Father worked daily in the factory, while Mother was a proficient artist,
Who created magic, colorful abstracts; like darkest nights of stardust!
Flawed, russet sky wept freely all night, to the dismay of fallen flowers;
......
Suzie lived next door to Tom, and their families were the best of friends;
Like toffee clouds, chasing rainbows, once the blue storm wildly spends!
Tom and Susie enjoyed playing together, since they were the same age;
Like fine art, in the age of colors, when beautiful became all the rage!
Bike riding and hide and seek, roller skating and tag, they often played;
Like sunset orange, a jewel of the dusk, recalling daring plans we made.
Other friends told funny jokes at their fence; then came inside to frolic,
......
Mark Allen was ten years old, and his favorite things were trains;
Like teal moments after the storm, when colorful beauty remains.
Mark had a shiny, toy train set, and he was frequently adding cars;
As people often have dreams of travel, underneath jewelled stars.
Mark's Papa was a train conductor. He loved to manage the train;
And Mark liked to listen for its whistle, while playing in Green Lane.
Dinah was Mark's little sister, and she'd give her toy horn a blast;
......
Mary Davis dwelled on a fruit farm, adoring the company of animals.
Most beloved was sociable Sam, who made her giggle, like bubbles!
Whereas Mary was seven-years-old, Sam, her lamb, was still a baby,
Given to Mary by best neighbors, when they played in orange daisies.
Sam's white fleece was soft and fluffy, like a mound of feather pillows;
Like clouds of endless, turquoise skies, blown by breezes, into billows.
Sweet-natured Sam and Mary's bond, was special. Soon inseperable!
......