This poem is taken from PN Review 100, Volume 21 Number 2, November - December 1994.
Eight Poems
Winter Day Fasanenpark
There are no words only white.
The day has been shunted off to wait
in a pearl-hung white hung chill
where trees in twos are being marched away
and the other trees have withdrawn
into their mysteries of rising
no horizon just one direction
down which two people
intolerably alone
appear to make
small progress
into the vanishing
...
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