November 01, 1964 (vol. 6, iss. 3) • Page Image 5
… - Z .. (Continued from preceding page) But when I breathe with the birds, The spirit of wrath becomes the spirit of blessing, And the dead begin from their dark to sing in my sleep. In the title poem, "The Far Field," Death is recognized, confronted and be- comes a stimulus I am renewed by death. though of my death. The dry scent of a dying garden in September, The wind fanning the ash of a low fire, for the poet sees things of higher valu...…