This poem is taken from PN Review 23, Volume 8 Number 3, January - February 1982.
The GardenFar back, in the most remote times with their fresh colors,
Already and without knowing it I must have begun to bring
Everyone into the shadowy garden-half-overgrown,
A kind of lush, institutional grounds-
Singly or in groups, into that green recess. Everything
Is muffled there; they walk over a rich mulch
Where I have conducted them together into summer shade
And go on bringing them, all arriving with no more commotion
...
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