- 1. Alone
I, one who never speaks,
Listened days in summer trees,
Each day a rustling leaf.
...
- 2. On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills
From the high terrace porch I watch the dawn.
No light appears, though dark has mostly gone,
Sunk from the cold and monstrous stone. The hills
Lie naked but not light. The darkness spills
...
- 3. The Slow Pacific Swell
Far out of sight forever stands the sea,
Bounding the land with pale tranquillity.
When a small child, I watched it from a hill
At thirty miles or more. The vision still
...
- 4. The Journey
Snake River Country
I now remembered slowly how I came,
I, sometime living, sometime with a name,
...
- 5. The Precision
God spoke once in the dark: dead sound
in the dead silence. I turned
in my sleep.
I slept and sank away.
...
- 6. To The Holy Spirit
Immeasurable haze:
The desert valley spreads
Up golden river-beds
As if in other days.
...
