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A R Ammons Short Poems

Famous Short A R Ammons Poems. Short poetry by famous poet A R Ammons. A collection of the all-time best A R Ammons short poems


by A R Ammons
 One failure on
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by A R Ammons
 A day without rain is like
a day without sunshine

by A R Ammons
 It was May before my
attention came
to spring and

my word I said
to the southern slopes
I've

missed it, it
came and went before
I got right to see:

don't worry, said the mountain,
try the later northern slopes
or if

you can climb, climb
into spring: but
said the mountain

it's not that way
with all things, some
that go are gone

by A R Ammons
 All afternoon
the tree shadows, accelerating,
lengthened
till
sunset
shot them black into infinity:
next morning
darkness
returned from the other
infinity and the
shadows caught ground
and through the morning, slowing,
hardened into noon.

by A R Ammons
 When the crow
lands, the
tip of the sprung spruce

bough weighs
so low, the
system so friction-free,

the bobbing lasts
way past any
interest in the subject.

by A R Ammons
 After a long
muggy
hanging
day
the raindrops
started so
sparse
the bumblebee flew
between
them home

by A R Ammons
 The reeds give
way to the

wind and give
the wind away

Rapids  Create an image from this poem
by A R Ammons
 Fall's leaves are redder than 
spring's flowers, have no pollen, 
and also sometimes fly, as the wind 
schools them out or down in shoals 
or droves: though I 
have not been here long, I can 
look up at the sky at night and tell 
how things are likely to go for 
the next hundred million years: 
the universe will probably not find 
a way to vanish nor I 
in all that time reappear.

by A R Ammons
 After yesterday
afternoon's blue
clouds and white rain
the mockingbird
in the backyard
untied the drops from
leaves and twigs
with a long singing.

by A R Ammons
 When I was young the silk
of my mind
hard as a peony head
unfurled
and wind bloomed the parachute:

The air-head tugged me
up,
tore my roots loose and drove
high, so high

I want to touch down now
and taste the ground
I want to take in
my silk
and ask where I am
before it is too late to know

Design  Create an image from this poem
by A R Ammons
 The drop seeps whole
from boulder-lichen
or ledge moss and drops,

joining, to trickle,
run, fall, dash,
sprawl in held deeps,

to rush shallows, spill
thin through heights,
but then, edging,

to eddy aside, nothing
of all but nothing's
curl of motion spent.