This poem is taken from PN Review 51, Volume 13 Number 1, September - October 1986.
The LectureI am just going downstairs to where
I shall tell them lies. Up here
at the window the maple trees' shadow
fingers the indigo dusk and the fireflies
carry their tiny cargoes of light
up, down, right to the ground, then
almost over the high branches again
riding their currents of bark-scented dark
...
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