| LOOKING FOR MUSHROOMS AT SUNRISE When it is not yet day I am walking on centuries of dead chestnut leaves In a place without grief Though the oriole Out of another life warns me That I am awake In the dark while the rain fell The gold chanterelles pushed through a sleep that was not mine Waking me So that I came up the mountain to find them Where they app[ear it seems I have been before I recognize their haunts as though remembering Another life Where else am I walking even now Looking for me ---------------------- THE APPROACHES The glittering rises in flocks suddenly in the afternoon and hangs voiceless above the broken houses the cold in the doorways and at the silent station the hammers out of hearts laid in rows in the grass The water is asleep as they say everywhere cold cold and at night the sky is in many pieces in the dark the stars set out and leave their light When I wake I say I may never get there but should get closer and hear the sound seeing figures I go toward them waving they make off birds no one to guide me afraid to the warm ruins Canaan where the fighting is ------------------------- THE DISTANCES When you think of the distances you recall that we are immortal you think of them setting out from us all of them setting out from us and none dies and none is forgotten and all over the world there are dams lying on their backs thinking of the sea --------------------- THE OLD BOAT Listen; natives of a dry place, from a harpists fingers, rain. |
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