The air this morning,
blowing between fog and drizzle,
is like a white dog in the snow
who scents a white bear in the snow
who is not there.
Deeper than seeing,
deeper than hearing,
they stand and glare, one at the other.
So many listen lost, in every weather.
The mind has mountains,
Hopkins wrote, against his sadness.
The dog held the bear at bay, that day.
~ Jane Hirshfield
from After
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