R.I.P. John Haines

Love his poetry. Spare and gut-felt.

Godspeed, John.

Years ago a friend gifted me a broadside he had done on John’s work. I framed it; it now hangs on my office wall.

Poem of the Forgotten

I came to this place,
a young man green and lonely.

Well quit of the world,
I framed a house of moss and timber,
called it a home,
and sat in the warm evenings
singing to myself as a man sings
when he knows there is no one to hear.

I made my bed under the shadow
of leaves, and awoke
in the first snow of autumn,
filled with silence.

– John Haines

3 thoughts on “R.I.P. John Haines”

  1. Rod, I’ve not read Haines before. I think I’ll go looking for some of his work. If most of his poetry is as “spare and gut-felt” as “Poem of the Forgotten,” I’m fairly certain I’ll enjoy what I may find.

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