Page 27
By Jack Joseph Smith
By Jack Joseph Smith
Original Scan
AI Interpretation
Willow, morning light, sparrows, movies, and coal-country ground make love feel material, local, and stubbornly enduring.
The page turns lasting into a bodily, local matter: willow, soil, sparrows, morning, grass, coalmining, compost, and labor all pull the speaker toward inherited ground. The added As it and While it make the opening motion more explicitly continuous with the willow's sweep and the tree's turning, while moment in the neighbor line makes the absence more temporal and fragile; other revisions still complicate whether the motion is return, exile, or recovery.
'Lasting' grounds endurance in a specific patch of earth: the willow that 'sweeps its counterclock wind' and drops 'its leving of shadow on my soil,' the 'Songs and sparrows' that 'rest on my shoulders' while 'I am the only eyes gone away.' Morning light 'comes down high, and delicately held,' the neighbors 'have not left one moment be gone,' and 'This grass is soft, / this barefoot walk is over coalmining stuff.' The speaker names himself 'the old material one who loves, / his fathers' compost,' 'the laborer come back to gardener' whose 'silver spoon digs it up, / and through it back, / across the Northwest Terrirories / to Western Pennsylvania.' Lasting is figured as inheritance of coal-country ground. This reading stays provisional: the page is needs-followup with uncertain margin insertions. Source spellings 'leving,' 'siguine,' 'neighbos,' and 'Terrirories' are preserved.