Man, Le Guin could really pick her images. Some of these are very slight, but some lovely ones. “Come to Dust“ and “On Second Hill“ stuck out for me. Here's the latter:
“Where on this wild hill alone
a child watched the evening star,
let these bits of ash and bone
rejoin the earth they always were,
the earth that let her sing her love,
the gift that made the giver
here on the lonely hill above
the valley of the river.“


























