Outside Fargo, North Dakota

James Wright

Along the sprawled body of the derailed Great Northern freight car,
I strike a match slowly and lift it slowly.
No wind.

Beyond town, three heavy white horses
Wade all the way to their shoulders
In a silo shadow.

Suddenly the freight car lurches.
The door slams back, a man with a flashlight
Calls me good evening.
I nod as I write good evening, lonely
And sick for home.

Next 10 Poems

• James Wright : Rip
• James Wright : Saint Judas
• James Wright : Small Frogs Killed On The Highway
• James Wright : The Jewel
• James Wright : The Journey
• James Wright : To A Blossoming Pear Tree
• James Wright : To The Muse
• James Wright : Trying To Pray
• Sir Thomas Wyatt : A Revocation
• Sir Thomas Wyatt : Alas Madam For Stealing Of A Kiss

Previous 10 Poems

• James Wright : On The Skeleton Of A Hound
• James Wright : Northern Pike
• James Wright : May Morning
• James Wright : Lying In A Hammock At William Duffy's Farm In Pine Island, Minnesota
• James Wright : In Response To A Rumor That The Oldest Whorehouse In Wheeling, West Virginia, Has Been Condemned
• James Wright : Hook
• James Wright : Having Lost My Sons, I Confront The Wreckage Of The Moon: Christmas, 1960
• James Wright : Goodbye To The Poetry Of Calcium
• James Wright : Fear Is What Quickens Me
• James Wright : Depressed By A Book Of Bad Poetry, I Walk Toward An Unused Pasture And Invite The Insects To Join Me