Minnesota poet Robert Bly turned 90 on Dec. 23. Here is a poem from his first collection, "Silence in the Snowy Fields," published in 1962.
Bly, winner of a National Book Award, the Robert Frost Medal and many other honors, is the author of 25 collections of poetry. He is also a translator and an editor and is the author of many books of nonfiction, including the bestselling "Iron John."
DRIVING TOWARD THE LAC QUI PARLE RIVER
By ROBERT BLY
I
I am driving; it is dusk; Minnesota.
The stubble field catches the last growth of sun.
The soybeans are breathing on all sides.
Old men are sitting before their houses on car seats
In the small towns. I am happy,
The moon rising above the turkey sheds.
II
The small world of the car
Plunges through the deep fields of the night,
On the road from Willmar to Milan.
This solitude covered with iron
Moves through the fields of night
Penetrated by the noise of crickets.
III
Nearly to Milan, suddenly a small bridge,
And water kneeling in the moonlight.
In small towns the houses are built right on the ground;
The lamplight falls on all fours on the grass.
When I reach the river, the full moon covers it.
A few people are talking, low, in a boat.
From Silence in the Snowy Fields (Middletown, Conn.: Wesleyan University Press, 1962). Copyright © 1962 by Robert Bly. Reprinted with permission of the author.
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