There will be rose and rhododendron
  When you are dead and under ground;
Still will be heard from white syringas
  Heavy with bees, a sunny sound;

Still will the tamaracks be raining
  After the rain has ceased, and still
Will there be robins in the stubble,
  Brown sheep upon the warm green hill.

Spring will not ail nor autumn falter;
  Nothing will know that you are gone,
Saving alone some sullen plough-land
  None but yourself sets foot upon;

Saving the may-**** and the pig-****
  Nothing will know that you are dead,—
These, and perhaps a useless wagon
  Standing beside some tumbled shed.

Oh, there will pass with your great passing
  Little of beauty not your own,—
Only the light from common water,
  Only the grace from simple stone!

The mine shaft’s gaping mouth
yawns like the throat of an old, useless god.
Gnats hover by the scattered rocks.
This is real not a set, or a scene,
a spit of dirt shot through the sluice, all things like
a picture cut to kiss my America expectation.

In the surrounding bush, tamaracks curve towards the clouds.
The clouds where, above the furry tips of conifers, cataracts
plummet down mountainwalls, and ask:
“afraid?” And I am, I am.  I fear the sheer
slopes of tough granite slashing the giant sky
in two; the hard-edged mountain face.  The expansive air.

And this split is brooding old and unknowable
tunneling briskly into the unfamiliar, bruising
Montana a grisly purple-red
when the sun swings underground
and shades the hot **** by the mine with cool night as
behind it, the mine appears to growl.

Early Spring begins with the Vernal Equinox
and lasts until April 8th, the day I was born.
April 8th is the first day of Mid-Spring, which we love
until May 14th, when the leaves are almost full
on the trees.  May 14th is the first day of Late Spring,
which totally delights us until the final minute of
June 9th has passed.  Then comes June 10th and
Early Summer.  The water in the brooks gets lower
and warmer.  The sun reaches its highest point
in the sky.  Early Summer ends on the 4th of July;
then come the seemingly endless days of Mid-
Summer.  They hold memories of childhood and
a kind of timelessness.  Mid-Summer is over on
August 7, the day my friend had his annual birthday
party after Little League was over.  In Late Summer, the
Winter we couldn't imagine in July seems to be edging
nearer.  The first day of Early Fall is the day after
Labor Day.  We went back to school then, and the
leaves had already started to turn.  On the second
Monday of October, Mid-Fall begins.  The tamaracks
are yellow, the crickets are silent, things are very still,
everything seems to be waiting for the snow.  On the
day after Halloween, Late Fall Begins.  We hope our
fire-wood is dry enough; we get the snow removal
tools ready, and maybe even have to use them.  This
short season ends the Friday after Thanksgiving.  Then
we are into Early Winter.  The sun sets very early, we
can see our breath in the morning.  The dark time has
begun, but the days pass quickly, as the holidays brighten
our spirits.  Mid-Winter begins on December 26.  Now,
the darkness presses against our windows at dinner time.
Glasses of wine and candle light are the best defenses.  We
press on through January, talking about our garden and
keeping the house neat.  Then comes Valentine's Day, the
first day of Late Winter.  Each day is noticeably longer.
We start to wonder what Spring and Summer will be like.
On some days the snow melts, and we see little streams
running along the sidewalks.  The sun climbs higher in the
sky, and we REJOICE!