We were joined that summer
in the dark
in the street of danger
and leisure against the bicycles
and the summer people two of us loose
from that crowd back there, finding a place
in public to be alone and talking. But for me, more than
talking because I wanted you in body
and couldn't figure out how to push language through the desire
of that. I just stood still, sunburned and shuddered
young to love, absent minded about it.
Soon, at our feet, something so strange
started moving shooting past us, very low.
Something invisible a tube of bent air? that we couldn't have seen it
but did see it in all its being dark and somehow see-through
that it made the street look rippled and ominous
and you said, "something dark just happened, did you see it?"
And of course, I did see it and in the years that have gone through summer
I keep seeing it in different places, with different people who wouldn't
understand what force it was they were looking at what we first saw
that summer in the dark when it was bigger than us both
and seemed to have to start through
us first to get to where it was going and then, mercifully, be all of what
there, down the road a little, where it met the world.
What I'm Going to Do Is
I just want to follow the stranger
for awhile to see if he actually ends
up the way the stranger you are following
must end up in a place nobody ever sees
through a window or a place nobody ever goes or maybe
it isn't there at all the place as Rilke said
that isn't even there until he's there.
When he gets to an inside pocket of the world
the stranger changes into someone
all the heaviness of the following could write: into the one
who will save us. For he has always been the stranger.
He secretly alights! By force.
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