Crowride

A. R. Ammons

When the crow
lands, the
tip of the sprung spruce

bough weighs
so low, the
system so friction-free,

the bobbing lasts
way past any
interest in the subject.

Next 10 Poems

• A. R. Ammons : Design
• A. R. Ammons : Easter Morning
• A. R. Ammons : Eyesight
• A. R. Ammons : Gravelly Run
• A. R. Ammons : Hymn
• A. R. Ammons : Identity
• A. R. Ammons : In Memoriam Mae Noblitt
• A. R. Ammons : Mule Song
• A. R. Ammons : Poetics
• A. R. Ammons : Rapids

Previous 10 Poems

• A. R. Ammons : Called Into Play
• A. R. Ammons : An Improvisation For Angular Momentum
• A. R. Ammons : After Yesterday
• Yehuda Amichai : You Mustn't Show Weakness
• Yehuda Amichai : Yad Mordechai
• Yehuda Amichai : Wildpeace
• Yehuda Amichai : What Kind Of A Person
• Yehuda Amichai : Try To Remember Some Details
• Yehuda Amichai : Tourists
• Yehuda Amichai : The Little Park Planted