Pine: Taste, Touch and Sight

James L. Dickey

I
   More and more, through slow breaks
In the wind no a different no this
 Wind, another life of you rises,
   A saliva-gland burns like a tree.
        You are what you eat
                         and what will flutter
   Like food if you turn completely
 To your mouth, and stand wide open?
       A wafer of bark, another
Needle, bitter rain by the mouthful coming.

       Hunger swirls and slowly down
   Showers and are your children
 What you eat? What green of horror
       And manna in the next eye
 To come from you? And will he whistle
        From head to foot?

       Bitter rain by the mouthful coming.

                                       JAMES DICKEY

                   u

 More hands on the terrible rough.
     More pain but more than all
Is lodged in the leg-insides. More holding,
   Though, more swaying. Rise and ride
        Like this and wear and ride
       Away with a passionate faceful
Of ply and points. The whole thing turns
       On earth, throwing off a dark
          Flood of four ways
     Of being here blind and bending
          Blacked-out and framed
Suspended and found alive in the rough palm-
And thigh-fires of friction, embracing in the beyond
            It all, where,
   Opening one by one, you still can open
     One thing more. A final form
     And color at last comes out
     Of you alone putting it all
       Together like nothing
        Here like almighty

 m
Glory.