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The Thief

Text of Poem

The fists of the summer sun
unclenched and I stole
the autumn weather.
Like a free spender
I traded the gold days
for colored woods
and ripe grapes.
Wild mallards
swarmed from their Arctic nests
along the sky’s rivers
but I waved them back.
A foolish crow
with a thin bone of moon
stuck in his throat
coughed a warning.
Old Carrion, Old Evil,
I said and lay on my back laughing
until late one afternoon
the sky’s militia
rose in their hooded shapes
and sighted me.

First Line
The fists of the summer sun
Original Pub Location
Original Publication Date
1951
Original Citation
Man and His Field. Denver: Allan Swallow. 1951. 52.
Complete Poems
83
Hearst Collections
Word Count
87
Poetic Form
open
Themes
Twitter Quote
I traded the gold days / for colored woods / and ripe grapes.