I want to know what you’re doing now,
whether the work is dull or if, at least,
it goes well. And I’m thinking
of a dress you might be wearing, your fragrant shoulders,
the solitary water of your ancient calm.
A calm deeper than grief or boredom, distracting
a soul uprooted, hour by hour,
from the living bone.
- Ralph Angel, from “Back Down,” Exceptions and Melancholies: Poems 1986-2006 (Sarabande Books, 2006)
I see that you
are the end of spring
across the hollow
of the empty bowl
not making a sound
and the dew is still here
- W. S. Merwin, “To a Departing Companion,” Present Company. (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)