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Robert Francis Short Poems

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


by Robert Francis
 backroad leafmold stonewall chipmunk
underbrush grapevine woodchuck shadblow 

woodsmoke cowbarn honeysuckle woodpile
sawhorse bucksaw outhouse wellsweep 

backdoor flagstone bulkhead buttermilk
candlestick ragrug firedog brownbread 

hilltop outcrop cowbell buttercup
whetstone thunderstorm pitchfork steeplebush 

gristmill millstone cornmeal waterwheel
watercress buckwheat firefly jewelweed 

gravestone groundpine windbreak bedrock
weathercock snowfall starlight cockcrow



by Robert Francis
 Four Tao philosophers as cedar waxwings
chat on a February berry bush
in sun, and I am one.
Such merriment and such sobriety-- the small wild fruit on the tall stalk-- was this not always my true style? Above an elegance of snow, beneath a silk-blue sky a brotherhood of four birds.
Can you mistake us? To sun, to feast, and to converse and all together--for this I have abandoned all my other lives.

Glass  Create an image from this poem
by Robert Francis
 Words of a poem should be glass
But glass so simple-subtle its shape
Is nothing but the shape of what it holds.
A glass spun for itself is empty, Brittle, at best Venetian trinket.
Embossed glass hides the poem of its absence.
Words should be looked through, should be windows.
The best word were invisible.
The poem is the thing the poet thinks.
If the impossible were not, And if the glass, only the glass, Could be removed, the poem would remain.

by Robert Francis
 The beautiful is fair.
The just is fair.
Yet one is commonplace and one is rare, One everywhere, one scarcely anywhere.
So fair unfair a world.
Had we the wit To use the surplus for the deficit, We'd make a fairer fairer world of it.

by Robert Francis
 Winter uses all the blues there are.
One shade of blue for water, one for ice, Another blue for shadows over snow.
The clear or cloudy sky uses blue twice- Both different blues.
And hills row after row Are colored blue according to how for.
You know the bluejay's double-blur device Shows best when there are no green leaves to show.
And Sirius is a winterbluegreen star.

by Robert Francis
 Bull by day
And dozes by night.
Would that the bulldozer Dozed all the time Would that the bulldozer Would rust in peace.
His watchword Let not a witch live His battle cry Better dead than red.
Give me if you must The bull himself But not the bulldozer No, not the bulldozer.

Sheep  Create an image from this poem
by Robert Francis
 From where I stand the sheep stand still
As stones against the stony hill.
The stones are gray And so are they.
And both are weatherworn and round, Leading the eye back to the ground.
Two mingled flocks - The sheep, the rocks.
And still no sheep stirs from its place Or lifts its Babylonian face.




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