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James Spencer



Spring 1969 | Poetry

    To Jack GilbertYou preferred the manWho found the way, learnedThe trick of hurdlesGot the job done.What of the work of love,Never done?What of the chasmMany times come up to,Detoured, bridged,Never filled?Sometimes, one small man [...]


Spring 1969 | Poetry

What did he say, coming out of that cave
After a hundred forty days, and the world
Still skipping past the stars, the sun


Spring 1969 | Poetry

The cloud moves off the escarpment.
The man is seen on the granite face,
A spider, hanging for a long time


It took Fenton two days to climb the canyon where his Uncle Jack was camped alone, building a rock dam for the Sierra Power Company. From time to time Fenton rested long enough to let the altitude sickness pass, and drank from a stream so icy it ma [...]