Note To Myself
All of it changes at evening
equal to the darkening,
Linda Gregg, "Different Not Less"
Not to be alone but because I am,
I come more often near dusk, geese
Huddling in the rutted puddled road,
This quiet darkening not the closing
In of rooms but the opening of water
Lengthening into the familiar distance
I know is still there but disappearing,
And I can let my thoughts go out
Across it and believe in their going on
If not quite forever at least farther
Than the limits of light . . . Li Po setting
His poems adrift on the river, and now
The geese, by some unspoken assent,
Leaving the road, entering the water,
Each all in a row, one by one together.
Poetry by countryfog
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Written on 2013-06-29 at 15:45
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