{"id":6769,"date":"2011-03-21T15:03:18","date_gmt":"2011-03-21T20:03:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.berkshirelinks.com\/?p=6769"},"modified":"2011-03-21T15:03:18","modified_gmt":"2011-03-21T20:03:18","slug":"back-from-the-fields-by-peter-everwine","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/back-from-the-fields-by-peter-everwine\/","title":{"rendered":"Back from the Fields, by Peter Everwine"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>American Life in Poetry<\/strong>: Column 313. By Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004-2006<\/p>\n<p>Go for a walk and part of whatever you walk through rides back on your socks. Here <strong>Peter Everwine<\/strong>, a California poet, tells us about the seeds that stick to us, in all their beauty and variety. <\/p>\n<p>Until nightfall my son ran in the fields,<br \/>\nlooking for God knows what.<br \/>\nFlowers, perhaps. Odd birds on the wing.<br \/>\nSomething to fill an empty spot.<br \/>\nMaybe a luminous angel<br \/>\nor a country girl with a secret dark.<br \/>\nHe came back empty-handed,<br \/>\nor so I thought.<\/p>\n<p>Now I find them:<br \/>\nthistles, goatheads,<br \/>\nthe barbed weeds<br \/>\nall those with hooks or horns<br \/>\nthe snaggle-toothed, the grinning ones<br \/>\nthose wearing lantern jaws,<br \/>\nold ones in beards, leapers<br \/>\nin silk leggings, the multiple<br \/>\npocked moons and spiny satellites, all those<br \/>\nwith juices and saps<br \/>\nlike the fingers of thieves<br \/>\nnation after nation of grasses<br \/>\nthat dig in, that burrow, that hug winds<br \/>\nand grab handholds<br \/>\nin whatever lean place.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s been a good day.<\/p>\n<p>By Peter Everwine<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>American Life in Poetry: Column 313. By Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004-2006 Go for a walk and part of whatever you walk through rides back on your socks. Here Peter Everwine, a California poet, tells us about the seeds that stick to us, in all their beauty and variety. Until nightfall my son ran [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6769","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","category-uncategorized","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6769","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6769"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6769\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6769"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6769"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/idealpoetry.com\/rwc\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6769"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}