Meanwhile, on the other side
of the hill—
the problem was
that the problem itself had vanished
since they didn't know which
questions
to ask anymore.
Instead of transparent, things were
clear. Instead of unfathomable shadows,
the whole world was filled
with an intensely blinding
luminosity. It was as if
the light was coming
from inside of everything, instead of
shining out from a star—as if it was time
itself that stood still
so the topography of the bluegreen
earth could
all the more easily bend
and curve around it,
until—there no longer was
any "hill"
or any "until"—
or, for that matter, any such
thing
as a "was."
