Thrush, House of Livia, Rome
THE NEW SONG
For
some time I thought there was time
and
that there would always be time
for
what I had a mind to do
and
what I could imagine
going
back to and finding it
as
I had found it the first time
but
by this time I do not know
what
I thought when I thought back then
there
is no time yet it grows less
there
is the sound of rain at night
arriving
unknown in the leaves
once
without before or after
then
I hear the thrush waking
at
daybreak singing the new song
From the New Yorker, December 12, 2011, p. 42.
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