I Lift the Gauze and Look a Long Time
Someday this body will be done and what it touched,
and whom, and the curvature of his arm reaching me,
and the fern bent in its earth-down arc.
I feel I can face this bare, and waiting,
and propulsive fact.
I also feel the abstract
makes fools of us all,
but at least if I ready myself
I will see my foolishness
in the quick of my last day’s rotation,
and the fool that I am will be
that much more
by the endless lamps
lit to lead me out—