II

No wonder-- since things come into view then drop from sight--
We clear a space for ourselves, a stillness where nothing
Is blurred: a common palm, an oasis in which to rest, to sit

For hours beside the pool while the moonlight builds its palaces,
And columns rise, and coral chambers open onto patios
With songbirds practicing their peeps and trills.

No wonder the evening paper lies unread, no wonder what happened
Before sunlight, the history of ourselves, leaves us cold.

---from A Suite of Appearances; Mark Strand