
Once,
I was afraid of dying
In a field of dry weeds.
But now,
All day long I have been walking among damp fields,
Trying to keep still, listening
To insects that move patiently.
Perhaps they are sampling the fresh dew that gathers slowly
In empty snail shells
And in the secret shelters of sparrow feathers fallen on the earth.
Source: Wright, James. Above the River : The Complete Poems. A Wesleyan University Press ed. Farrar Straus and Giroux ; University Press of New England 1992, p. 142.