James Wright

Poets use language to capture a mood or sense of place. We just have to be still, read, and listen.

Here’s a poem by James Wright (December 13, 1927 – March 25, 1980) frequently referred to as one of America's finest contemporary poets, admired by critics and fellow poets alike for his willingness and ability to experiment with language and style. His themes—loneliness and alienation—remained constant.

Beginning

The moon drops one or two feathers into the field.
The dark wheat listens.
Be still.
Now.
There they are, the moon's young, trying
Their wings.
Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow
Of her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is gone
Wholly, into the air.
I stand alone by an elder tree, I do not dare breathe
Or move.
I listen.
The wheat leans back toward its own darkness,
And I lean toward mine.

--James Wright