CHINOISERIE IV

All one sees in distance is distance,

                                                              clarity of occurrence

Returning to hold us close.

Under the high grass at forest’s edge,

                         the voles and mice run back and forth and back.

Their distance is not our distance,

                                                           and what they see there

Is not what we don’t see. It’s something shapeless and strong

And downright unclarified.

I’d like to say it’s something I saw once,

But it’s not.

                     I’d like to say I wrote a poem once on a stone wall,

But I didn’t.

                     I’d like to say that it’s still there, but it’s not.