Absence in the trees; in the heat and bad light A turtledove begins despairing loudly, across the way. Belong with our feelings of two months ago. So this Is a surprise visit to their wistful presences When what we'd been wanting was merely to get back. The oak has thrust a harsh little thicket Of new twigs into one side, in the other The oleander has thrust a blossoming tip. In the bottom, yellowed blooms and dry oak leaves, horny-edged. The intrusive growth, brush out leaves and dead blooms, And brim the stone hollow with cold water. Now, near noon, Absolutely still, it contains a sharp-cut refl ection Of the oak bough and oleander leaves and blooms Arching irregularly over it, with the remote blue Of the August sky fi lling in behind; a summer-crystal. That I saw for the fi rst time The legendary event -- Fresh water entering salt; A creek came out from under Darkness of pines and fi rs |