The following may be one of my new favorite poems. I'm not sure, but I keep returning to it out of interest. It's by Robert Hass, from his collection Time and Materials: Poems 1997-2005. It is the first poem in the collection, which is part of the reason I find it so interesting, along with its brevity and layers of complexity.
Iowa, January
In the long winter nights, a farmer's dreams are narrow.
Over and over, he enters the furrows.
Labels: poetry
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