Loss

 

Came home and found seven pines
my view from my north windows
not there.

The space they've left now looms more
than the space they occupied.
Between

my eyes and the field beyond
a thirty-year thickening
a blur

in the shape of seven pines
refuses to let me see
right through.

Could Ezekiel have joined
resinous logs? The magpies
minus

convenient branches wasted
no time looking for something
not there.

Robin Fulton    09.03.2008      
Grenzflug. Ausgewählte Gedichte. Edition Rugerup 2007