He was touched or he touched or

He was touched or he touched or   

she did and was, or they were   

and would. Or the room could, its   

three doors, two windows or   

the house on a slant touching,   

touched by the drift down street, cars   

pressing quick or slowing. All along   

the town touched a river, the river   

the filth falling through it. What was clean—   

a source pure as rumor—a shore   

touching lake touched by wind above,   

and below, a spring. All touch blindly

further water. That blue touching   

blacker regions in the sea so weirdly   

solitary, each to under, to every   

sideways past deeper, where nowhere.