After so much is said and the candles are low…
I’m no match for the godless nights
And if there are gods I’m no match for them either
I build a fence badly, tear it down after dark
**
I used to love Wallace Stevens
I was young
**
Thus the dog bursts into my poem
Follows me home
A mild wind follows the dog
**
Up river where a stand of birches leans
Walking with a spent candle in my coat
