Photo by Katy Brown, Davis
This hill has been standing in my heart a long time,
thick with brush that cuts off much of the horizon.
I sit here, I look out and I think about things—
about long spaces beyond this place, and silence
that is superhuman; about the deep quiet
that happens sometimes in the heart and that almost
replaces the pulse.
to all that silence. And whenever I do that
I think of eternity and the centuries
of the dead as if here living with the present
and the wind's sound. Then my thought drowns, but I find it
sweet, like sweet water, going down in that great sea.
(for Michael Peglau, translated from the Italian by Robert Bringhurst)