Nine Things in  General   

It's night
and a numbered beauty
lapses at the wind,
chortles with the
branches of a tree,

giggles,

plays shadow dance
with a dead kite,
cajoles affection
from falling leaves,
and knows four
other things.
One is the color
of your hair.

By Richard Brautigan

Tell Your Friends About It | Print This Poem

Comments

You should be logged in to be able to leave comments

Other poems by Richard Brautigan:

• -2
• 15%
• 30 Cents, Two Transfers, Love
• All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace
• AUTOBIOGRAPHY (POLISH IT LIKE A PIECE OF SILVER)
• Boo, Forever
• Color As Beginning
• December 30
• Deer Tracks
• Discovery
• Donner Party
• Haiku Ambulance
• Hinged To Forgetfulness Like A Door
• I Live In The Twentieth Century
• Just Because
• Karma Repair Kit: Items 1-4
• Less Time
• Love Poem
• Man
• Mating Saliva
• Milk For The Duck
• My Nose Is Growing Old
• Nine Things
• Please
• Romeo and Juliet
• Surprise
• The Beautiful Poem
• The Fever Monument
• The Moon Versus Us Ever Sleeping Together Again
• To England
• Tournesol
• We Stopped at Perfect Days
• Xerox Candy Bar
• Yes, the Fish Music