Monday, December 28, 2020


When I think 
back on all 
the objects 
I have worshiped—

many spheroid, 
others cylindrical,
all of them 

hollow now, black 
and white in 
the photo-
book of memory—

I experience not 
the loss 
of quintessence, 

but the paradox
of hope;

it might yet 
be possible—
for a substance, 
for a presence 

to represent 
its own total