Heights
The dark morning says See how you forget
mountains camped by a stream
the chipped lake
gold strokes on the high
clawed hollows
where you never set foot
what would you see from there
not the past
which is fiction
nor the present which is the past
you would stand there shaken
in the presence of vertigo the god
clutching the air
hearing that one
note
you keep forgetting
MYSLATE
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Lilly Prize winner W.S. Merwin's latest book of poetry is titled The Folding Cliffs. He is the author of The Vixen.
Clickhereto visit Robert Pinsky's Favorite Poem Project site.