Classic Poem

At that hour over snow
when there are both day- and moon-
light and the trees cast two shadows

I think of you —
how you were of two minds. . . .
I would like to show,

standing beside you,
how the red light and the blue light
are crossing among the con-

volutions of an elm —
that is like the pen-sketch of a brain,
with its regions and lobes,

its Fissure of Orlando —
crossing, unreconciled,
and each tracing on snow

its opposite version (How
clearly they lie, one east,
one west); and tell you:

Nevermind, my dear. We too
cast complementarities. All
our lies likewise were true.











By permission of the author.