95

Binocular Vision Without Benefit of Glasses

Cold and clear as this winter sun, the contrast grows

between the passionate lies we clutch

and the Buddha-smile that outlives a marble face.

I dreamed of mountains moving

in a stepped-up pace of time, and my own slow speech

the measure of their calendars and clocks.

It was an incantation of the will

that immortalizes the mayfly

while making visible the paralax of stars.

If you could hear, I would call you in the night

to share the truth of dreams.

For who could forget

(even blanketed and warm in the close jungle sleep of apes,

or in the briefest flicker of mayflies

that never risk the terror of white light,

or in the striations of a Nevada butte)

that marble smile?