That morning, Not a ripple remained among us That did not encompass some thought About yesterday.
We endeavor to keep them all, And feast with them, Inspecting them for clarity Of hindsight and reflection.
They have kissed the breeze Of their own accord, And have delighted in their secrets, Half-divulged, In concert with vague movements.
They tell us nothing, But show us what it means To be the salvation That awaits them With a half-smile
One night Years ago.
Art: Claude Monet “Riverbank at Argenteuil”