The poem
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, Asleep on the black trunk, blowing like a leaf in green shadow. Down the ravine behind the empty house, The cowbells follow one another Into the distances of the afternoon. To my right, In a field of sunlight between two pines, The droppings of last year's horses Blaze up into golden stones. I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on. A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home. I have wasted my life.
This is a great poem, I live in MN and can perfectly picture this scene in my head. Great work Mr. Wright!
I grew up on a farm outside Pine Island, MN and am a relative of William Duffy. I may never have seen his farm, but I have been in this picture myself. Although I never met James Wright, I would differ with the hint of a wasted life. If you get one worriless day laying on a hammock watching butterflies and watching the evening's sun go down...you have just lived a day that many dream about. You have a memory or meditative image to use as inspiration for your life. No life should be counted as wasted as it is often filled with sorrow, trajedy, epiphanies, and happiness. Until it is over, remember that any planful change in the trajectory of life can make it more meaningful.