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Was an American poet who lived much of his life in Amherst, Massachusetts. He lived in a small house he built himself which he called Fort Juniper.
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Robert Francis's poems
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From where I stand the sheep stand still
As stones against the stony hill.
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Those who have touched it or been touched by it
Or brushed by something that the vine has brushed,
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The beautiful is fair. The just is fair.
Yet one is commonplace and one is rare,
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Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
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Lingo of birds was easier than lingo of peasants-
they were elusive, though, the birds, for excellent reasons.
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Four Tao philosophers as cedar waxwings
chat on a February berry bush
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A seated statue of himself he seems.
A bronze slowness becomes him. Patently
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A wind's word, the Hebrew Hallelujah.
I wonder they never gave it to a boy
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My mind matches this understand land.
Outdoors the pencilled tree, the wind-carved drift,
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