Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

"In A Field"

To Love That Well, poems by Robert Pack
Lost Horse Press

Here, in a field
Of devil's paintbrushes,
The circle of far trees
Tightens, and near bushes
Hump like ruins
When the moon floats loosely
Past the desolation
Owl moans wake. Here,
As if the world's
Last lovers, we
Have rung from the ruins
The whippoorwill's
Thrust of melody.
You have fallen asleep,
Breathing as the wind breathes
Among wetted thistle,
The scented vine,
And, listening, I move
My body toward you,
When a small convulsion
Shakes your hand,
The moonlight flashes
On your teeth.
I am afraid to kiss you.
Never have I wished more
Not to die.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The Write Question blog
The Write Question on Facebook
The Write Question podcast

Robert Pack

"October Aspens" was published in Robert Pack's collection titled To Love That Well: New & Selected Poems 1954 - 2013 (Lost Horse Press 2013). His poems and essays have appeared in over a hundred magazines and anthologies, such as the American Scholar, New Criterion, Kenyon Review, Georgia Review, and Yale Review. His collection of poems, Composing Voices: A Cycle of Dramatic Monologues (Lost Horse Press, 2005), was a recipient of a Montana Book Award: “Pack’s crisp, sparkling language touching on subjects of personal importance to everyone creates a wonderfully accessible collection of poetry. It is a laudable addition to Montana literature.”

For the past sixteen years Pack has taught courses in Shakespeare, Romantic Poetry, Modern Poetry, and Ways of Knowing at the Honors College of the University of Montana in Missoula and at the Osher Institute for Adult Learning. He and his wife, Patty, live in a log home with a panoramic view of the Rocky Mountains in Condon, Montana.

Become a sustaining member for as low as $5/month
Make an annual or one-time donation to support MTPR
Pay an existing pledge or update your payment information
Related Content
  • She's with Grandma in frontof Grandma's house, backedby a willow tree, gladiola and roses.Who did she ever wantto please? But Grandmaseems half-pleased…
  • “Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?” – RoethkeIt’s time. It’s almost too late.Did you see the magnolia light its pink fires?You could be your…
  • In a few days it strikesEveryone in Indian Country,Be Canada or wherever.Drums vibrating,The high pitched tones carry a chant.Laughter of…
  • Are you frickin' kidding me?Yes, Jada, woman, sister, yesI am. Smile, Jada, there is moreto laugh at than you know.In Haida, you pronounce the J.Jada. It…
  • There is the bird beak's wayand the way of the woman with child.The eye's wayand the way of the well bucket.The oak tree's way is not unlike thatof the…