A. R. Ammons


Coming to a rockwall
I looked back
to the winding gulch
and said
is this as far as you can go:

and the gulch, rubble
frazzled with the windy remains
of speech, said
comers here turn and go back:

so I sat down, resolved
to try
the problem out, and
every leaf fell
from my bush of bones

and sand blew down the winding
gulch and
rounded out a bowl
from the terminal wall:

I sat in my bones' fragile shade
and worked the
knuckles of my mind till
the altering earth broke to
mend the fault:

I rose and went through.

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