Representative Poetry Online

Random Poem of the Day

1I see the harsh, wind-ridden, eastward hill,
2    By the red cattle pastured, blanched with dew;
3    The small, mossed hillocks where the clay gets through;
4The grey webs woven on milkweed tops at will.
5The sparse, pale grasses flicker, and are still.
6    The empty flats yearn seaward. All the view
7    Is naked to the horizon's utmost blue;
8And the bleak spaces stir me with strange thrill.
9Not in perfection dwells the subtler power
10    To pierce our mean content, but rather works
11    Through incompletion, and the need that irks, --
12Not in the flower, but effort toward the flower.
13    When the want stirs, when the soul's cravings urge,
14    The strong earth strengthens, and the clean heavens purge.