I dream of lost vocabularies that might express some of what we no longer can.

The Abandoned ValleyCan you understand being alone so longyou would go out in the middle of the nightand put a bucket into the wellso you could feel something down theretug at the other end of the rope?

Waking At NightThe blue river is grey at morningand evening. There is twilightat dawn and dusk. I lie in the darkwondering if this quiet in me nowis a beginning or an end.

How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,and frightening that it does not quite.

We must unlearn the constellations to see the stars.

Going ThereOf course it was a disaster.The unbearable, dearest secrethas always been a disaster.The danger when we try to leave.Going over and over afterwardwhat we should have doneinstead of what we did.But for those short timeswe seemed to be alive. Misled,misused, lied to and cheated,certainly. Still, for thatlittle while, we visitedour possible life.

The heartnever fitsthe journey.Alwaysone endsfirst.