The mist has lifted.
Only in the highest leaves
lingers. The registers
of human speech
define our atmosphere.

2.
We understand the speaker
better when we see the kind of tree
that grows inside.

3.
Eager for conviction,
she listens with her whole body,
reminds us of a stream,
freshet from the hills
washing her with words.

4.
But who is speaking?
There’s a little book of mine
came out only in German
called Wer spricht?, means
Who is Speaking. Still want to know.

5.
These episodes of understanding
come like monarch butterflies,
dozens of them
and then none,
while they’re off
multiplying in Mexico.

6.
Get it straight:
the pool cue
is not a fountain pen.
It doesn’t mean a thing
if it doesn’t leave a trace.

7.
And so we met
off Harvard Square,
brunch at the Basque restaurant
and talked high poesy.
It was almost like being alive
but not quite. But I could see
the shores of pure Being
over the messy waves of chat.

8.
So close now
to Another Thing.
What could it be
that sings to me.
Sometimes it takes
the form of pain,
leg or shoulder,
wrist or brow,
sense works hard
to music us
and sometimes it hurts.
Sometimes you wake up in the dark.

9.
Remember how we started,
pebble on a beach,
changes color when it’s wet.
Slips into any pocket,
any ear can hear this word.

7 October 2021