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About this poet

Richard Siken is the author of Crush (Yale University Press, 2006), which won the Yale Series of Younger Poets Award in 2004. He lives in Tucson, Arizona. 

Detail of the Hayfield

Richard Siken

I followed myself for a long while, deep into the field.
Two heads full of garbage.

Our scope was larger than I realized,
which only made me that much more responsible.

Yellow, yellow, gold, and ocher.
We stopped. We held the field. We stood very still.

Everyone needs a place.

You need it for the moment you need it, then you bless it—
thank you soup, thank you flashlight

and move on. Who does this? No one.


About this poem:
"My new manuscript includes several long 'landscape' poems that move forward with rhetorical and meditative gestures. I wanted to inhabit these locations in a personal way as well. It didn't work inside the poems—they became muddy and confusing, with conflated speakers and tones. The 'detail' poems offered a way to revisit the landscapes with an inside view, rather than the overview. 'Detail of the Hayfield' is a companion piece to a longer poem, 'Gold Landscape with a Blur of Conquerors.'"

Richard Siken

Copyright © 2013 by Richard Siken. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on February 8, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.

Copyright © 2013 by Richard Siken. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on February 8, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.

Richard Siken

Richard Siken is the author of Crush (Yale University Press, 2006), which won the Yale Series of Younger Poets Award in 2004. He lives in Tucson, Arizona. 

by this poet

poem
I looked at all the trees and didn't know what to do.

A box made out of leaves.
What else was in the woods? A heart, closing. Nevertheless.

Everyone needs a place. It shouldn't be inside of someone else.
I kept my mind on the moon. Cold moon, long nights moon.

From the landscape: a sense of scale.
From the
poem

1

A man saw a bird and found him beautiful. The bird had a song inside him, and feathers. Sometimes the man felt like