Portal

Witch hazel

Witch hazel is losing its leaves

and blooming at the edge of the field

near the path where he enters the woods,

blooming at the end of its season

like the deluded poet is trying to do,

hours alone in surrounding limbs

figuring out how to make something

out of not knowing enough,

awaiting the surge, the dreams

that seem to compose half of his life,

understanding at the end his exhilirations

will be scattered here with him.

—A mashup of a few lines and impressions from the poems
of Frank Bidart's Metaphysical Dogs.