2735

2734

2733

2732

2731

2731
Oliver Sacks has died
And the brass columns
Hold still,
The pipes at each end threaded,
By caliber and density,
By mathematical qualities,
Are categorized;
In the hand:
The beneficence of solidity.
Now do these brass lines bend, stretch, arc
Most curiously, pleasingly
A rulered solidity still.
How measure a quality
On a different interior
Scale?

2730

2729

2729
The sparrow flew up to greet me,
Watching sharply as I was
The smoke in the sun from my cigarette.
At his second try he was in my eye,
Feathered suitor,
Four storeys balanced in the air.
He knew me I know
From our pavement conversations.
Again he came up
A bit away this time
And with a jut of himself,
Caught his prey.

2728

2727

2726

2725

2724

2724
When in conversation with a field at night,
And bosomed with her as far as we call hers,
What shadowed fork in a listening tree,
Or arc of grass
In  a wind's voice calling,
Would tell of that secret place?

2723

2722

2721

2720

2719

2718

2717

2716

2716
Along the rails that run
Up there beyond the yard you can't see them,
That always without motion run
Ran still today but in a stiller stillness.
Why?
Then we knew if aught was gone,
His quiet diamond eye would see.

2715

2714

2713

2712

2712
Not by how long I look,
Nor that it shapes the light
At noon and dusk,
Nor by its clouded fullness
In the corner of an eye,
Can a truth be made beyond
This spring-flowering tree.

2711

2710

2710
How my instant-self contending
With a continuous chimerical
Person,
Does tremble to do what it will!
What desolate boy with my name
Did now in a dislocated hour
Inquire of himself,
What desire?

2709

2708

2707

2706

2705

2704

2703

2316.2

Emergent in the expect of it,
There you are.
Can love's conjuration be real?
A space with a name and an hour?
No.  It is yourself,
In expectancy requited.

2702

2701

2700

2699

2698

2697

2696

2695

2694

2693

2692

2691