THE SILENT GENERATION
By Charles Wright

Afternoons in the backyard, our lives like photographs
Yellowing elsewhere,
in somebody else's album,
In secret, January south winds
Ungathering easily through the black limbs of the fruit trees.

What was it we never had to say?

Who can remember now-
Something about the world's wrongs,
Something about the way we shuddered them off like rain
in an open field,
convinced that lightning would not strike.

We're arm in arm with regret, now left foot, now right foot.
We give the devil his due.
We walk up and down in the earth,
we take our flesh in our teeth.
When we die, we die. The wind blows away our footprints.

THE SILENT GENERATION

(Inspired by Dennis Gugger)

Afternoons in the backyard, our lives like photographs
Yellowing elsewhere,
in somebody else's album,

The days go by faster everyday
The gentle winds
Wrap themselves around the buildings
 

Amble back and forth on the world
Enjoy your time here
When you are gone, you are gone
The wind blows away our footprints

After Reading Tu Fu, I Go Outside to the Dwarf Orchard 
By Charles Wright

East of me, west of me, full summer.
How deeper than elsewhere the dusk is in your own yard.
Birds fly back and forth across the lawn
                                                            looking for home
As night drifts up like a little boat.

Day after day, I become of less use to myself.
Like this mockingbird,
                                    I flit from one thing to the next.
What do I have to look forward to at fifty-four?
Tomorrow is dark.
                            Day-after-tomorrow is darker still.

The sky dogs are whimpering.
Fireflies are dragging the hush of evening
                                                             up from the damp grass.
Into the world's tumult, into the chaos of every day,
Go quietly, quietly.

After Reading Tu Fu, I Go Outside to the Dwarf Orchard 

(Inspired by Dennis Gugger)

 East of me, west of me, full summer
As days pass me by like racing cars

I do not know what I am here for
What else lies ahead of me at age of fifty-four

My future is very dim
Getting dimmer day by day

Go quietly
Than burry yourself in the worlds chaos