Between Something and Nothing you chose that which in
      truth is Nothing!

His companions fell asleep on the hawsers in the stern;
and she came, took him by the hand and led him
a little ways above the shore; she lay down beside him

Time slows down, the light smoothes out surfaces, seeps
into old closets, drawers, and underneath the beds;
dries the pillow’s saliva, abrogates the winding of the stairs,

This cluster of small houses, gracefully etched
against the sky and sea, with its fine harmonies
of line and color—who would suspect the vast

All night long, on all sides of the house, there ate large, black, invisible horses
grazing in the stubbled field. Their legs are tied. The sound of their hooves
moving across the dry sheaves, is the only living thing in the world.

We expected a nerve, a move of some kind.
But the nothing that happens in death
was occurring.

Each tree is hung with ascensions of ice
and things lie sleeping under a curtain of snow.

Faring
and with a full tank:
                              past death regardless

All night, wind out of the Pentlands
around the chimney flue made sounds
like thunder, and I lay thick

I’ll quit smoking
as soon as I
get lung cancer.