SOME OF THE YOUNGSTERS TEENNESSEN OF MY GENERATION (THIRD GENERATION) HAD GRANDFATHERS WHO WERE WHALERS, OR HET GRANDFATHERS COMMANDED GREAT SAILING SHIPS WHO TRADED BETWEEN ENGLAND AND CHINA AND RUSSIA. ONE BOYS GRANDFATHER CAME FROM PORTUGAL AND SEVERAL WERE DECENDENTS OF MICRONESIAN MISSIONARIES (SALLOW YOUNGSTERS) YET FIRERY WHEN IT CAME TO A SHOWDOWN (GOVERNOR HIRAM BINGHAM WAS ONE OF THESE) (OF CONNECTICUT)

THIS

OUT OF THE GALAXY OF OR IMPORTANT COMRADES, THERE WERE TWO BUT TWO WHO WERE THORNS IN MY HEART OF TEENNES CONGIOUSNESS. THEY WERE BLINKEY-EYED ADENOIDALS, GIVEN TO ANCESTRY BRAGGING... (IN THIS SEASON AND OUT) THAT THEY HAD "TUDOR BLOOD IN THEIR VEINS.

ON QUESTIONING MY MOTHER CONCERNING THE APPARENT SUPERIORITY OF THEIR CLAIMS, SHE TOLD ME THAT THE TUDORS WERE EARLY ENGLISH KINGS.

FIRED WITH SOCIAL AMBITION TO BRAG TOO... AND A HERE-SAY MYTH CONCERNING A SCOTCH ANCESTRESS, A CHIEFESS... I ASKED MY MOTHER ENDEXXXXX WITH GUSTO, ONE DAY, WHAT THE EARLY SCOTCH WERE NOTED FOR.

SHE LOOKED AT ME (THE WAY MOTHERS DO) WITH A QUIBICAL SMILE AND REPLIED SLOWLY... "ALL THAT I CAN THINK OF ME, JUST NOW... IS THAT THEY HAD THE SEVEN YEARS ITCH".

THAT KNOCKED THE BREATH OUT OF MY EGO, BUT IT WAS PROBABLY THE BEGINNING OF MY FREEDOM FROM BINDING TRADITION.

SHARK GODS, HALF FISH HALF MEN, HANDSOME AND WINNING AND MURDEROUS... PELE THE GODDESS OF VOLCANOES... PELE, DEFIANT OF MAN AND THE GODS... SHE SWEET WHO WAS VERY BEAUTIFUL... WITH A BACK AS STRAIGHT AS A CLIFF AND WHOSE BREASTS WERE ROUND LIKE MOONS.

LXXX? 1906 BEGINNING OF PHOTOGRAPHY 1937 POETRY. BOOK ACCEPTED THE LAST OF 1940. SCRAPPED BECAUSE OF PEARL HARBOR.

NAME OF THE BOOK... PAGAN T DELAYED BECAUSE OF MAN AND PAPER SHORTAGE.

YEARS IN THE MOUNTAINS... 1910 to 1927

een

<table>
  <tbody>
    <tr>
      <td>1</td>
      <td>AM I A HARP OF THE WINDS</td>
      <td>HARLEQUIN</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>2</td>
      <td>EL CANON GRANDE</td>
      <td>FANTAZIA</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>3</td>
      <td>TO A SNOW LINE-TREE</td>
      <td>THE LIMPID POOL</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>4</td>
      <td>DEEP WOODS</td>
      <td>PAN</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>5</td>
      <td>ECHO</td>
      <td>SANCTUARY</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>6</td>
      <td>SIERRA NIGHT</td>
      <td>NORTH WIND</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>7</td>
      <td>ENCHANTED</td>
      <td>HAMADRYADS</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>8</td>
      <td>UNSEEN</td>
      <td>THE BREEZE</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>9</td>
      <td>THE CHASE</td>
      <td></td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>10</td>
      <td>TOCCATA</td>
      <td>THE DRYAD</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>11</td>
      <td>NIRVANA</td>
      <td>SUN-DAZZLE</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>12</td>
      <td>SPRING FANTASY UNDER THE SEA</td>
      <td>MADONNA</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>13</td>
      <td>THE GULL</td>
      <td>GRAY DAY</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>14</td>
      <td>HYMN OF THANKS</td>
      <td>INVISIBLE POWER</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>15</td>
      <td>ELEGIE</td>
      <td>EL DOLOR</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>16</td>
      <td>ANODYNE</td>
      <td>EBB TIDE</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>17</td>
      <td>DEFENSE</td>
      <td>LADY MACBETH</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>18</td>
      <td>BARRIER</td>
      <td>MINOR</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>19</td>
      <td>CRY</td>
      <td>DYING CEDAR</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>30</td>
      <td>HUNGER</td>
      <td>INFINITUDE</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>31</td>
      <td>THE PRESENCE</td>
      <td>TRYST</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>32</td>
      <td>INVOCATION</td>
      <td>HARP OF THE WINDS</td>
    </tr>
    <tr>
      <td>33</td>
      <td>PYRE-SONG</td>
      <td>SOUL OF THE BLASTED PINE</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>

1 AM I A HARP OF THE WINDS

2 BL CANON GRANDE

3 TO A SNOW-LINE TREE

4 DEEP WOODS

5 ECHO

6 SIERRA NIGHT

7 ENCHANTED

8 THE DRYAD

9 WHEE CHASE

10 TOCCATA

11 NIRVANA

12 SPRING FANTASY UNDER THE SEA

13 INVISIBLE POWER

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22-

23

23

AM I A HARP OF THE WINDS

AM I ANHAEOLIAN HARP THAT THE WINDS PLAY AT ODDS
SINGING HIGH, SINGING LOW, SINGING LAUGHTER AND BITTEREST TEARS ...
SINGING HOPE AND DESPAIR, SINGING GRIEFS, LINKED WITH JOY, FOR THE YEARS
THAT ARE GONE... AND TO COME...? MAY THE GLITTERING, PITYING GODS
ON OLYMPUS, JUDGE WHAT I AM IN MY OUTPOURING SONG
AS THE CLOUDS THAT PASS OVER THE EARTH... SOME STEADY AND SLOW
SOME FLEETING AND LIGHT AS THE SPARKLING, RIPPLING FLOW
OF A WILD MOUNTAIN BROOK AS IT ANGLES AND DASHES ALONG.

IF I AM A HARP OF THE WINDS... I PRAY FROM MY HEART
THAT MY SONGS, LIKE A SANDALWOOD INCENSE, RISE LOVELY AND CLEAN
IN SPIRALS THAT SHIMMER AND LIFT FROM EARTH INTO AIR
AND SPREADS ITS SPICED PERFUME... OR SIMPLE AND TRUE AS THE ART
OF THE GREEKS... WHO, OUT OF THE ELEMENTS, KNEW HOW TO GLEAN
THE GOOD AND THE BEAUTIFUL... ROUNDED AND PERFECT AND RARE.

ANNE BRIGMAN

BINGING HOLE AND DEBATE, BINGING OIL DRIED WITH TOBACCO AND THE IN
SINGING HIGH, BINGING FOW, BINGING TWOGHIER AND THREELINED LEVINS...
VW I WAS TROOPING HUFFS THE AIR, DEEP AS WINDS

VW I WAS HOLD OF THE MIST

Harlequin

3

TO A SNOW-LINE TREE
I WISH I WERE FINE AS A TREE IS FINE
WITH ITS STURDY FORM AND IT'S BEAUTIFUL LINE...
AS STEADY... SERENE... IMMOBILE AND JET
VIVID WITH GRACE AND DIGNIFIED...
FRIENDLY... SHELTERING... THROWING WIDE
BENEFICENT CALM THAT KNOWS NO FRET.

I WISH I WERE FINE AS A TREE IS FINE
WITH ITS STURDY FORM AND IT'S BEAUTIFUL LINE...
LIVING THROUGH STORMS WITH THEIR STINGING HAIL...
QUIETLY SINGING THROUGH SUMMER DAYS...
AND WHEN AUTUMN COMES WITH ITS AMETHYST HAZE
AND THE LOW SUN'S RAYS GROW THIN AND PALE...
TO WHISPER IN MUTED ANTIPHONALS
TO THE ECHOES OF RIVERS IN CANON WALLS...
CHANT OF THE TIME WHEN THE NORTH WIND BLOW
FOLDING THE PEAKS IN THEIR DRIFTING SNOW...
AND ICE STILLS THE VOICES OF WATER FALLS
AND THRENODYS DRIFT THROUGH THE SOMBRE PINE...
I WISH I WERE FINE AS A TREE IS FINE.

ECHO

ONE SILENT DUSK IN THE LONG, GONE YEARS
CLOSE BY THE CAMP-FIRE'S RUDDY GLOW
WITH ONLY THE MUFFLED FLUTE OF AN OWL
AND THE QUICK, WIDE SWEEP OF A WHISPERING BAT...

I CALLED A WILD, CHROMATIC SCALE
INTO THE DARK

CALLED TO THE SKY

CALLED IN A VOICE FULL-PITCHED AND KEEN
TO WAKEN ANDECHO FOR COMRADESHIP.

A MIRACLE SANG IN THE CRYSTAL NIGHT..!

SEVEN ECHOES ANSWERED MY CALL..!

THE FIRST CAME BACK FROM ACROSS THE GORGE
RANG FROM A PEAK WITH ITS CROWN OF STARS
THEN TOSSED IT ACROSS THE STEEP RAVINE
WHERE IT LAUGHED AGAIN FROM ANOTHER CREST...

THE TWO CALLS BLENDING, AS CIRCULAR RIPPLES
MELT TO EACH OTHER IN WIDENING RINGS
ON THE LIMPID MIRROR OF DREAMING POOLS
WHEN RAIN-DROPS FALL.

THEN ANOTHER CANON CAUGHT THE SOUND
TO JOYOUSLY SHARE AGAIN THE SONG
WITH SUMMITS AND VALLEYS DOWN THE RANGE
TILL THE VIBRANCE WAS LIKE A SERAPH CHOIR
OF DELICATE BEAUTY, FADING AWAY.

I WONDER HOW FAR MY SMALL VOICE RANG
ON THE WINGS OF THE ECHOES THAT MOUNTAIN NIGHT..?

I WONDER WHETHER THE ECHOES RANG

SIERRA NIGHT

WHY SHOULD I FEAR THE ICY WIND

THAT SHRILLS IN THE TWISTED JUNIPER TREE..?

WHY SHOULD I START FROM THE NIGHT-HAWK'S CRY SINCE YOU ARE CLOSE TO ME..?

CLOSE TO ME IN THE OPEN DARK

OF THE MOUNTAIN NIGHT... CLEAK-CUT AND STARK AWAY FROM THE WORLD

AND ITS WHINE.

YONDER A STAR LIKE A FAIRY LIGHT

GLOWS AT THE TIP OF A HEMLOCK BOUGH...

HERE IN THE CAMP-FIRE'S HEARTY GLOW

THE WORLD IS WELL LOST IN THE PERFECT NOW.

THE HUSH OF THE EARTH... THE HUSH OF THE SKY...

THE RUSTLE OF WINGS AS AN OWL FLOATS BY...

AND YOUR FACE

IN THE WOOD-FIRE'S SHINE.

ANNE BRIGMAN

North Wind

7

ENCHANTED

I KNOW A LITTLE HOLLOW PLACE
BETWEEN THE MOUNTAIN'S BREASTS
WHERE OREADS SING THEIR WATER-SONGS
BENEATH THE MOON AND STARS...

AND SHADOWS TRAIL THEIR LOVELY WAYS
FROM MORNS TO GLOWING WESTS

ACROSS A POOL WITH CRYSTAL DEEPS
NOR SIGHT NOR SOUND THAT MARS
THE PERFECT BEAUTY OF THE SPOT...

ITS SLENDER, WHISPERING TREES...

ITS CENTIANS... BLUE AS SUMMER SKIES...

ITS SNOWY HEATHER BELLS
WHERE DRYSDS HUM AND DRIFT AND SWAY
UPON THE EVENING BREEZE
AND ECHOES MURMUR ON THE WIND
FROM OUT THE HIDDEN DELLS.

I KNOW PAN PIPES FOR I HAVE HEARD
HIS FLUTES UPON THE AIR...
AND NYMPHS WERE TENDING LAUREL-BLOOM
IN THICKETS SWEET WITH MUSK...

AND CHUCKLING SATYRS COME TO WATCH
THEMSELVES REFLECTED THERE
WITHIN THE LITTLE MIRROR POOL
AND COMB THEIR HAIR AT DUSK.

HOW DARE I SAY THAT I HAVE SEEN
THESE LOVELY, FAERY THINGS..?
BECAUSE I HAVE... I KNOW I HAVE..!

ELSE WHAT IS THIS THAT SINGS..?

ANNE BRIGMAN

["## UNSEEN", "WHAT WAS IT STIRRED THE BOUGH..?", "THERE WAS NO BREATH OF WIND..!", "WHY DID THE ASPENS TREMBLE\nIN THE QUIET OF SUNSET..?", "WAS IT THE SHADOW OF TREES\nTHAT SLIPPED SOFTLY?\nOVER THE HILL\nINTO THE CAON..?", "WHY DID THE SLIM, YOUNG MOON\nSHINE AS OF MINTED SILVER\nAND THE LITTLE, RED FOXES\nBARK FROM THEIR COVERTS..?", "THEN I KNEW...", "KNEW IN THE SCENT OF THE WILD ROSE...", "KNEW IN THE STRANGE, SWEET BREATH\nFLOODING THE TRAIL", "THAT BEAUTY WAS PASSING...", "DIANA... LOVELY AND SWIFT\nWITH HER LEAN, GRAY, PHANTOM HOUNDS.", "ANNE BRIGMAN", "I KNOW A LITTLE\nENCHANTED", "FROM A BIG BEND IN THE MOON\nAND A BIG WIND\nFROM A BIG WIND IN THE MOON\nAND A BIG WIND IN THE SKY\nFROM A BIG WIND IN THE BREEZE\n

THE CHASE

THE GALLOPING HOOVES OF THE CENTAURS RING
STRIKING FIRE FROM THE BEETLING CRAGS
AS THEY BELLOW AND SHOUT IN THEIR HARD-RUN CHASE
TO CAPTURE THE LITTLE, WHITE NYMPHS OF THE STREAM
FRAGILE AS MIST... EYES AGLEAM...
TO HOLD THEM CLOSE IN A WILD, STRANGE DREAM
AND BEAR THEM AWAY ON THEIR FIERCE EMBRACE
OVER THE OCEAN... OVER THE WAVES...
OVER THE CAONS THE CLIFFS THE PEAKS
AND IN THROUGH THE STARS TO THEIR HIDDEN CAVES.!

ANNE BRIGMAN

TOCCATA

CAN I BELIEVE THAT I SAW A TREE QUIVER
AND OUT OF IT'S HEART STEP A RADIANT THING
WITH SLIM, GOLDEN BODY, TRANSLUCENT AND SHINING
TO DANCE WITH LIGHT TREAD IN A GREEN FAIRY-RING...?

IT FLOATED IN RHYTHMS OF DELICATE CADENCE
HUMMED BY THE WIND IN THE TALL PINE'S CREST...

FLOATED IN SPIRALS AND SWIFT-WHIRLING RONDOS
DIPPING AND SWAYING NOR PAUSING FOR REST.

TREMULOUS LAUGHTER CAME DRIFTING FROM NOWHERE...

THE FOREST SIGHED SOFTLY... THE LOW BRANCHES STIRRED...

AND MYRIAD BEAUTY CAME WEAVING AND BENDING
TO RHAPSODIES CHANTED BY FLOWER AND BIRD...

WHILE SLENDER YOUNG FAUNS AND BRONZED SATYRS FLOURISHED

THEIR HORNS AND THEIR HOOVES IN THE DANCE OF THE BREEZE...

AND THEN THEY WERE VANISHED... THE WILD, LOVELY BEINGS...
AND ALL THAT I SAW WERE THE GLIMMERING TREES.

ANNE BRIGMAN

THE CHASE

AND IN THROUGH THE STARS TO THEIR HIDDEN CAVES...
OVER THE COUNCILS OF THE SEVEN
AND BEAT FROM THE CLOSER IN A WILD, BRANGE DREAM
...THERE AS I FELL AS EYES DREW
AND BEAT FROM THEIR LIFELONG EMBARRACE
OVER THE COCKS OVER THE WAVES
AND MYRIAD BEAUTY CAME WEAVING AND BENDING
TO RHAPSODIES CHANTED BY FLOWER AND BIRD...

ANNE BRIGMAN

10

NIRVANA

I HAVE LEFT MY MOUNTAINS
I HAVE COME TO THE SEA
GONE ARE MY PEAKS AND GRANITE WILDS
AND THE GLORIOUS TWIST OF THE JUNIPER TREE.

MY HEART CRIES BACK TO THE SHEER, STARK HEIGHTS...
FOR THE ROCKY TRAILS AND THE STARRY NIGHTS...
FOR THE CAMP-FIRE'S GLOW AND THE ICY STREAM
FOR THE SONG OF THE WINDS AND THE COUGAR'S SCREAM...

I HAVE COME TO THE SHORE
WITH ITS AGE-OLD SONG
ITS ENDLESS HORIZONS AND TERRIBLE DEEPS...
I HAVE COME TO THE OCEAN... AND I BELONG.

ANNE BRIGMAN

HYMN OF THANKS

FOR LONG, BLACK, WINDSWEPT WINGS OF WINTER CLOUDS
FOR GLITTERING LIGHT UPON THE OCEAN'S BREAST
FOR HURRYING WAVES OF STEELY GRAY AND CROWDS
OF DARK GULLS DRIFTING TOWARD THE SULLEN WEST.
FOR BITTER STORMS THAT TEAR THE LONELY SHORE...
FOR HEAPS OF AMBER KELP THAT LIES FORLORN...
FOR FLUTED SHELLS THAT SING OF OCEAN'S LORE
AND SEA-POOLS WHEN THE TIDE IS LOW AT MORN.
HERE ARE THE SACRAMENTS OF EARTH AND SKY...
HERE ARE THE LONG, PALE PLANES OF SANDY WASTE
WHERE NEVER-ENDING, CLEANSING WINDS PASS BY
THAT KNOW NO REST... NOR LAGGARD TIMES... NOR HASTE.

FOR THESE I LIFT MY HEART... THOU RADIANT POWER
AND WORSHIP... UNDISTURBED... IN THIS STILL HOUR.

ANNE BRIGMAN

ELEGIE

OUT OF THE SOUTH WET MISTS ARE TRAILING
THEIR WEEPING-RAIN ON THE OCEAN'S FACE
AND THE WIND AND THE LITTLE GRAY WAVES ARE WAILING
TO THE CRY OF THE GULLS AND THE DAYLIGHT FAILING.

MY HEART IS WEARY WITH TOO MUCH CRYING
I STAND ALONE... THERE IS NO TRACE
OF THOSE I LOVED... THE DAY IS DYING...
GRAY BIRDS IN THE DUSK... ARE FLYING, FLYING...

ANNE BRIGMAN

Et Dolor

ANODYNE

NOW, SINCE I HAVE NOT YOU, I HAVE THE SEA
WITH ITS STRANGE BEAUTY AND ITS LONELY WASTES...
YET, WHEN THE MOONRISE AND THE SUNSETS COME
I LONG TO SHARE... LIKE SACRAMENTAL BREAD AND
WINE... THE LIVING WONDER, SPREAD BEFORE
MY HUNGRY HEART AND EYES. COULD I BUT KNOW
THAT SOMEWHERE, FAR BEYOND THE CURVE OF TIDE
AND CURVING SHORES, YOU, YOU, TURN TO EVENING STAR
REMEMBERING WE SHARED ITS GLORY ONCE
WHEN SHADOWS CREPT ACROSS THE DARKENING HILLS
AND MISTS CAME DRAFTING FROM THE OCEAN'S RIM
AND STARTLED BIRDS ROSE IN THE LAST, DIM LIGHT.
REBRANCE NOW, IS GENTLE SACRAMENT...
AND THOUGH I HAVE NOT YOU...
I HAVE... THE SEA.

ANNE BRIGMAN

["17", "BETWEEN", "ARE THOSE QUARANTINES, UNTIL THE NEW\nTIME, IF ANY, COME TO ME, OR, IF NOT,\n

19

CRY

BELOVED EARTH... I AM WEARY OF YOUR MIGHTY CLASP.
LIFE CROWDS... I AM EXHAUSTED WITH THE STERN DECREE
OF YOUR RELENTLESS, AGEING, BINDING, BENDING GRASP...
BELOVED EARTH.

YET... WHERE SHALL I GO..? I HAVE BUT GLIMMERING MEMORIES
OF LIVES BEFORE. THIS CARAPACE BEGINS TO RASP MY
MY SPIRIT AND THERE SEEMS NO LIGHT AHEAD FOR ME
BEYOND THESE FLESHLY EYES. I GROPE BUT CANNOT SEE
THE PATH. THE RUSTING LOCK OF LIFE HOLDS FAST THE HASP
AGAINST MY TIRED, STRUGGLING HEART... I WOULD GO FREE...
BELOVED EARTH..!

ANNE BRIGMAN

BETTER

HOW DOY OYAH, OYAH, OYAH, OYAH

O'YAH TRIAL TANT HONOR

YAH WEN TOWARD A THEW OY WORN I

THOUGHT THEW OY

...THIS OYAH YAH TOWARD THEW OY

...YAH TOWARD I

...THEY TRA THAAN YAH, BELL YAH, BELL YAH

REGRET ON OYAH I

HATE SO THOUGHT HO QUMIN HO HUH AY

THAT LIAM BINT NON

THOART YAH OYAH I TI... OYAH OY

HABT HINT GONDER

NARLE PATTERTHAT GHO... OYAH AH TOWARD TANT

...THEY OY AH HO

...THEY AT TOWARD YAH SEPT HART TANT

THOART ON OYAH I

ANNE BRIGMAN

HUNGER

I LONG FOR THE WIND-SWEPT, BARREN PEAKS
WHERE THE STARS BURN LOW IN THE ENDLESS DOME
AND THE PANTHER SCREAMS TO HIS MATE AT DAWN
FREEZING THE HEART TO ITS VERY BONE.

I LONG FOR THE THUNDER OF WIND IN SAILS...
FOR THE KEENING OF STORMS IN ROPES ON HIGH...
FOR THE STINGING SPRAY FROM CHARGING WAVES
AND THE STORMY PETRELS SKIMMING BY.

I LONG FOR THE SILENCE OF DESERT LANDS...
FOR THE VELVET NIGHT AND THE WHISPER OF STARS...
FOR THE GRAY DAWN'S SWEEP AS IT LIFTS THE CLOUDS
WHEN THE DAY-STAR PALES AND NIGHT UNBARS.

THE PEAKS AND THE SEA AND THE DESERT WASTES
GIVE TO THE HEART FOR THE TRANSIENT HOUR
THEIR MEASURLESS BEAUTY OF EARTH AND SKY
LULLING THE HEART WITH THEIR HIDDEN POWER.

YET I LONG FOR A PRESENCE, BELOVED AND LOST
WITH THE LONGING A MORTAL MUST UNDERSTAND
WHO HAS DRUNK OF THE WINE OF THIS HUMAN LIFE
NOR MOUNTAIN NOR DESERT CAN COMFORT HIS HAND.

ANNE BRIGMAN
COPYRIGHT BY
THE CAXTON PUBLISHERS OF
WALDWELL IDAHO.

21

THE PRESENCE

THE GRAY MIST-VEIL HAS FALLEN ONCE AGAIN...
YOUR FORM IS HIDDEN FROM MY SEARCHING EYES...
THE SUN THAT SHONE IS DRENCHED BY WEEPING SKIES
AND MAJOR SONGS HAVE TURNED TO MINOR STRAIN.
IS HOY FOREVERMORE THE TWIN OF PAIN..?
MUST MORTALS DRINK THE CUP OF SHINING GUISE
NOR FLINCH THE GALLING DRAUGHT THAT MAKES FOR WISE
AND STEADY VISION... ... KNOW THAT LOSS IS GAIN..?

QUIET
I DREAM THE STEADY RADIENCE OF YOUR FACE...
IT IS A HOLY GRAIL... A STAR TO ME...
A MEMORY, SUBTLER THAN I UNDERSTAND...
FOR GLOWING IN MY DEEPEST HEART I TRACE
YOUR PRESENCE... EVEN AS THE UNDER-SEA
HOLDS IN ITS HUSHED EMBRACE... THE QUIET LAND.

ANNE BRIGMAN

TEARS

LISTEN THE RAIN
AND THE KEEN OF THE WIND...

THEY MAKE ME WINCE AS THEY FINGER THE WINDOW PANE
LIKE FINE, STRAIGHT THREADS OF SILVER WIRE

BLOWN BY THE STORM FROM THE SULLEN WEST...
LASHED BY THE WIND THROUGH CROUCHING TREES...

WHIPPED BY THE WINDS FROM WILD, STRANGE SEAS.

OUT IN THE DARK
THE RAIN SLANTS BY.

IS IT TEARS FROM THE EYES OF NEW-DROWNED, STARK-EYED, DEAD?

OR THE BITTER, FALLING TEARS THAT MARK

THE STREAMING EYES OF WOMEN WHO GRIEVE...

WOMEN WHO WAIL BY BEATEN TREES...

WOMEN WHO MOURN BY DARK, WILD SEAS..?

ANNE BRIGMAN

MARCH.44

["QUESTION\n(TO)\n(V, C, D)", "WHO ARE YOU... CHILD, OF DARKEST NIGHT..?", "WHO ARE YOU THAT YOU SHIMMER LIKE A LANCE", "WITH GLEAMS THAT RADIATE THE BODY'S HUSK", "WHO ARE YOU WITH YOUR MARSH-FIRE, FLICKERING LIGHT..?", "WHO ARE..? DOWN THE LONG, BEWILDERING YEARS", "STRANGE LOVLINESS AND DEAR, ELUSIVE AIRS", "LIKE GARMENTS SPUN BY WIND, OF SUN AND MIST", "ARE YOUR BRIGHT GARB... ... WHO ARE YOU, CHILD OF TEARS", "AND LAUGHTER...(CLOTHED IN SOLEMN TONES OF GRAY\nTO MORTAL SIGHT).?) ... WISE CHILD WITH TENDER EYES", "THAT SENSE THE MYSTERIES... THAT SUBTLY KNOW", "THE WORDLESS, HOLY THINGS... ... WHO ARE YOU..? ... SAY..?", "A.B.\nL($\"", "BROWN", "BROWN\n\nBROWN\n\nBROWN\n\nBROWN\n\n