Requiem

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REQUIEM

Finitude demands we pick

            an image for the imageless—

                        inadequate, of course, but 


good enough to help us set 

            the angst at ease. For most

                        a stepping over will suffice, 


as if the two were separated

            by glass doors at a bank that

                        only spin one way. Sailors see 


a ship, a sea. Due to allergies, 

            I now anticipate that it will

                        be like when your nostril whistles


inexplicably after hours out

            of order, and suddenly you find

                        the world clean and clear again,


           a state you'd nearly forgotten.


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