<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348280" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Gravelly Run</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I don't know somehow it seems sufficient<br>to see and hear whatever coming and going is,<br>losing the self to the victory<br> of stones and trees,<br>of bending sandpit lakes, crescent<br>round groves of dwarf pine:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">for it is not so much to know the self<br>as to know it as it is known<br> by galaxy and cedar cone,<br>as if birth had never found it<br>and death could never end it:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the swamp's slow water comes<br>down Gravelly Run fanning the long<br> stone-held algal<br>hair and narrowing roils between<br>the shoulders of the highway bridge:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">holly grows on the banks in the woods there,<br>and the cedars' gothic-clustered<br> spires could make<br>green religion in winter bones:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">so I look and reflect, but the air's glass<br>jail seals each thing in its entity:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">no use to make any philosophies here:<br> I see no<br>god in the holly, hear no song from<br>the snowbroken weeds: Hegel is not the winter<br>yellow in the pines: the sunlight has never<br>heard of trees: surrendered self among<br> unwelcoming forms: stranger,<br>hoist your burdens, get on down the road.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Archie+Randolph+Ammons">Archie Randolph Ammons</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=348280" data-title="Gravelly Run de Archie Randolph Ammons" data-description="I don't know somehow it seems sufficient to see and hear whatever coming and going is, losing the self to the victory of stones and trees, of bending sandpit lakes, crescent round groves of dwarf pine: for it is not so much to know the self as t..."></div> </div> </div>

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