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Time’s Clickings

ISSUE:  Winter 1980

If the moment could be brought back,
  Clicks through the trees
  The typewriter speaking
    Those summer days of blue-green silence
    Struck by the little bells


And the pleasure of the solitude of the trees,
  Thinking through the days
  The struck delicate messages
    In the time of thoughttransferences
    When shadow was sun, sun was shadow,

The eleemosynary appearance of endlessness
  The surround of wood and water
  of birds flying and breeze passing
    By the pool and the statues and the urn
    Wood-toned smoke, haze off the hayfields

There in the time that was whole and hardy
  While dreams were infallible indices
  of further dreams of dreams
    In the shimmer of noon the serving
    of summer in lightest afternoon
If the moment could be brought back
  It would be the truth
  Of the artist writing history
    But he is dead, it is late, and I write
    Memory of Williams writing Paterson.


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