Act III, Sc. 2

Look she said this is not the distance

we wanted to stay at—We wanted to get

close, very close. But what

is the way in again? And is it

too late? She could hear the actions

rushing past—but they are on

another track. And in the silence,

or whatever it is that follows,

there was still the buzzing: motes, spores,

aftereffects and whatnot recalled the morning after.

Then the thickness you can’t get past called waiting.

Then the you, whoever you are, peering down to see if it’s

done yet.

Then just the look on things being looked-at.

Then just the look of things being seen.

Source: The Dream of the Unified Field:Selected Poems 1974-1994 (The Ecco Press, 1995)