A. R. Ammons

1926–2001

Continuing

Continuing the show, some prize-winning

leaves broad and firm, a good year,

I checked the ground

for the accumulation of

fifty seasons: last year was

prominent to notice, whole leaves

curled, some still with color:

and, underneath, the year

before, though paler, had structure,

partial, airier than linen:

but under that,

sand or rocksoil already mixed

with the meal or grist:

is this, I said to the mountain,

what becomes of things:

well, the mountain said, one

mourns the dead but who

can mourn those the dead mourned;

back a way

they sift in a tearless

place: but, I said,

it’s so quick, don’t you think,

quick: most time, the mountain said, lies

in the thinnest layer: who

could bear to hear of it:

I scooped up the sand which flowed

away, all but a cone in the palm:

the mountain said, it

will do for another year.