What is there to learn,
what is there to discover
in the chilled depths of solitude at dusk,
afield in the creamy, melting snow
with the wind on your face
under the rush of wings,
a low wedge of geese passing over
with sunset on their breasts,
at the seam of the earth and the sky,
at the seam of the day and the night,
at the seam of the past and the future,
on the thin, thin edge of the present,
what is there to learn?
Something. Anything. Everything.
