Lines

I did not have exactly a way of life but the bee amazed me and the wind’s plenty was almost believable. Hearing a magpie laugh through a ghost town in Wyoming, saying Hello in Cambridge, eating cheese by the frothy Rhine, leaning from plexiglass over Tokyo, I was not able to make one life of all the presences I haunted. Still the bee amazed me, and I did not care to call accounts from the wind. Once only, at Pompeii, I fell into a sleep I understood, and woke to find I had not lost my way.