unknown age

.

For all the features it hoards and displays

age seems to be without substance at any time

whether morning or evening it is a moment of air

held between the hands like a stunned bird

while I stand remembering light in the trees

of another century on a continent long submerged

with no way of telling whether the leaves at that time

felt memory as they were touching the day

and no knowledge of what happened to the reflections

on the pond's surface that never were seen again

the bird lies still while the light goes on flying

.

~ W.S. Merwin

from The Shadow of Sirius