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As the resident artist at EcoHealth, I pen verse these days inspired by the specter of future pandemics; for my dissertation at Amerika-Institut of LMU München, where I edit a weekly circular on poetry, I'm anatomizing the prosody of E. A. Robinson's sonnets—I also teach English, tutor composition, and lead a literary circle.

20150521

Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota

by James Wright

Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,   
Asleep on the black trunk, 
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow.   
Down the ravine behind the empty house,   
The cowbells follow one another   
Into the distances of the afternoon.   
To my right, 
In a field of sunlight between two pines,   
The droppings of last year’s horses   
Blaze up into golden stones. 
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.   
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home. 
I have wasted my life.

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