American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry

Theodore Roethke

The Far Field I I dream of journeys repeatedly: Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel Of driving alone, without luggage, out a long peninsula, The road lined with snow-laden second growth, A fine dry snow ticking the windshield, Alternate snow and sleet, no on-coming traffic, And no lights behind, in the… Continue reading Theodore Roethke

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American Culture · American Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry

Theodore Roethke

What Can I Tell My Bones? 1 Beginner, Perpetual beginner, The soul knows not what to believe, In its small folds, stirring sluggishly, In the least place of its life, A pulse beyond nothingness, A fearful ignorance.       Before the moon draws back,       Dare I blaze like a tree? In a world always late… Continue reading Theodore Roethke

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American Culture · American Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

Theodore Roethke

It is difficult to say all things are well, When the worst is about to arrive; It is fatal to woo yourself, However graceful the posture.      Loved heart, what can I say?      When I was a lark, I sang;      When I was a worm, I devoured.      The self says, I am;… Continue reading Theodore Roethke

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