It is a cold and snowy night. The main street is deserted. The only things moving are swirls of snow. As I lift the mailbox door, I feel its cold iron. There is a privacy I love in this snowy night. Driving around, I will waste more time.
from Silence in the Snowy Fields, 1962
Wesleyan University Press, Middletown, Conn.
Copyright 1962 by Robert Bly.
All rights reserved.
Reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press from Silence in the Snowy Fields. Copyright 1962 by Robert Bly.
Robert Bly (1926-2021) is the author of over 30 poetry collections, including Like the New Moon I Will Live My Life (White Pine Press, 2015).