the self intersects with the world
and it was on discovering this
(and do not call me naive that I did not know this
that I called once more on the boatman

yes, it is true
whenever I am
where I go
my footsteps echo in Greece & Venice

I am forever at that harbour
forever eating fruit on St Mark's square
forever the wide-eyed one
going from place to place with all my wonderment
leading me where I go
and confirming where I am

yes, the self is fair
the destinations also
and you can and cannot tell one from the other

so riddle me this--
what is the difference between beauty
and beauty?

O yes, the dream of the shell is the pearl
"in the spring and autumn
There are no righteous wars"

Am I telling you what
I have told you before?
No matter, in repetition lies my faith
in the world,
in memory drawn from again and again,
in simple things reiterated and affirmed

nothing I might add to this will alter
the world,
nothing I might subtract will defeat it.


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