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Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota

James Wright
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,   
Asleep on the black trunk,
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow.   
Down the ravine behind the empty house,   
The cowbells follow one another   
Into the distances of the afternoon.   
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,   
The droppings of last year’s horses   
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.   
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.
Library Staff
Why I chose this poem: 

I love this poem because it reminds me of the importance of slowing down and resting in nature. 

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