4.
To the traveller
Any place they come to can be home
Even for a day or two
And any language learnt can be our own
For as long as we care to lise it; can be
[n
that we all are strangers somewhere.
Everything we know
We have to learn, even what we are,
Become the part we practice.
You come from wandering people much attached
To places here and there, and fed by roots
(What that lives isn't?) but like water lilies
Floating in moving streams
That take and give back wherever they find themselves;
from people attached to the day
Wherever it fades or opens. The same light
Flowing round somewhere else will make you blink,
As you do now, gossamer, so frail, so silken,
Force
YOll
to come
to
terms, force you
to
stir.
5.
Later you will get
Particulars: names nationalities opinions,
A history, and be pulled along the track
Your people make to travel on.
Now
[t
is just life and air and the June sun
Shining by the sea on Wales,
A morsel of flesh and its light breathing,
Gossamer-light for life, durable,
Tough as thistle-down or the fair hair of the dandelions
Seeding
to
make the inextirpable roots
That fill the banks with flowers.
6.
I drive from dark shadows up into light again
The sun hitting my mirror
