An abridgment of A.R. Ammons‘ "Corson’s Inlet," found in his collected poems:
I went for a walk over the dunes again this morning
to the sea,
then turned right along
the surfrounded a naked headland
and returned
along the inlet shore:… there is serenity:
no arranged terror: no forcing of image, plan,
or thought:
no propaganda, no humbling of reality to precept:
terror pervades but is not arranged, all possibilities
of escape open: no route shut, except in
the sudden loss of all routes:I see narrow orders, limited tightness, but will
not run to that easy victory:
still around the looser, wider forces work:
I will try
to fasten into order enlarging grasps of disorder, widening
scope, but enjoying the freedom that
Scope eludes my grasp, that there is no finality of vision,
that I have perceived nothing completely,
that tomorrow a new walk is a new walk.
The Dish 