Ursula K. Le Guin

U
Ursula K. Le Guin
Leaves
Years do odd things to identity.
What does it mean to say
I am that child in the photograph
at Kishamish in 1935?
Might as well say I am the shadow
of a leaf of the acacia tree
felled seventy years ago
moving on the page the child reads.
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To the Rain
Mother rain, manifold, measureless,
falling on fallow, on field and forest,
on house-roof, low hovel, high tower,
downwelling waters all-washing, wider
than cities, softer than sisterhood, vaster
than countrysides, calming, recalling:
return to us, teaching our troubled
souls in your ceaseless descent
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Six Quatrains
AUTUMN

gold of amber
red of ember
brown of umber
all September

MCCOY CREEK

Over the bright shallows
now no flights of swallows.
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