Exile Scene

The space out of the river lands I saw
spread, go on to you
still now, I left before
they had gone there, I turned at Burley
along the river’s meadows out of sight of
the starch plants, I knew you lived
way past.
 
And look to now. This sight
in sight out a window at a snow
lighting on the yard and truck yard next door
goes on to you. What is any friend-
ship for
is given.
 
Worth or not worth it, hope
gives on this snow
somehow
falls to you
warmly.  Open o open
up our moments
 
The highways another summer go over
the inches unfrozen under the wet snowed ground
fallen on now —
Massachusetts slums muddy and snow on gone
to Kansas grasses
plait, winds home to
like pigeons
to Idaho
I know is there only
you are.
Lacking out of
wrapped in
land wrapped in this snow.
 
 

— 19 Feb [1963, Cambridge, MA]