but you heard me
13
Each moment we recognize is gone
and so too the days
we try to pin down with words
which are only moments given sound
I live
trying to catch moonlight with the paper
on which I send you this night
14
Looking back
at my footprints in the snow
I wonder
Who is this me
who longs to answer this question
this me
who walked here alone
impudent authority
so far from home
15
Though tonight we are happy
we will come to grief
What of it
If we look for something endless
our lives will be endless looking
Why not settle for this
new wood on the fire
the moon in love
with the new-fallen snow
19
The crescent moon appears in the west
Taking leave, we first see it
though it’s been with us all day
like the sound of a bell
before it’s struck
or the sound of your voice
when I’m far away
20
Even with a continent between us
we hear the same music
rare, even among those who never part
If you die before me
I’ll trace these letters with my finger
in the air
so the birds can fly through them
and translate this song
29
Each day we are faced with having done nothing
no matter what we do
Our lives like the wake of a boat
close behind us
Better not to look from too far away
Only at getting these words down now
then to split wood then to eat lunch
then mail this letter
then to look again at the void
30
I begin this letter
writing the date at the top of the page
like an incantation
for some unnamed thing to take life
Why call it April
when a sudden snow stills the peepers
and I turn from windows where
frost blares against the new green rye
or the sixth day
breaking always into convenient shares
and a year to count our progress
34
I thought of you
as I dropped this Grey Wulff at the base of a stump
I watched the minute dapple of water around it
I waited for some nameless creature to rise
While in the trees above, two herons were resting
a kingfisher rattled and skimmed the surface
and a turtle slid off a log
like the author of a dream
slipping into the day
35
There are nights
I don’t know what to do
with my arms
nights it would be a pleasure
to take them off
to stack them by the bed
and swim like a dolphin
through this dreamless sea
41
A December evening and as it grows dark
the fog becomes pearly above the snow