John Koethe
DOROTHY WORDSWORTH
All my life
I've meant something I don't really know how to say–
Roughly , that
now
and
then
and
here
and
there
Are different times and places , but not different ways of
doing things ;
And that every time and place is so dense
It can't hold any of the others,
But only sits next to them .
It's as though the "knowledge of experience"
Were that experience didn ' t matter all that much ,
And that what I thought and meant and wanted
Didn ' t make very much difference , and that the past was
a
demonstration
Of how little weight the soul actually has .
And yet I still like most of the things
I used to like in high school , and I still think
Some of those wonderful , vague things
are
me .
I guess the things one has always liked
Don ' t have much to do with what one is, was, or ultimately
becomes-
But I feel lost without them .
Fixed on something so far away my whole
Life seems prolonged out of proportion to the real world,
Things float in and stop and try to talk to me
And I agree with everything they say, though their voices
aren't mine anymore :
" It's getting awfully late . And we've all
Been up for a long time. In just a little while
All of us are going to be sound asleep . ' ,
