Classic Poem

That we need to look at the world
through something ... Not straight on,
unmediated ... A smoke,
an arch, a window, a line of trees,
a trajectory of birds — something
between one and the horizon
with its vanishing-points, its end-
of-the-world implications ... Or
words — better amorous
and merry, for sure — but even
words only trying, like these,
to flag with some metaphor
what we can't compass, what we
are encompassed by: a karma
of exploding eternities, the
further out we can see
the less to do with us...