By Wallace Stevens
I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.
The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.
It took dominion everywhere.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.
Source: Collected Poems (Alfred A. Knopf, 1954)
More By This Poet
The Snow Man
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and...
The Emperor of Ice-Cream
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bidbid Command, order, direct him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent concupiscent Sensual, desirous curds.
Let the wenches wenches Girls dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys