Season (W.S. Merwin)

Season

This hour along the valley this light at the end

       of summer lengthening as it begins to go

this whisper in the tawny grass this feather floating

       in the air this house of half a life or so

this blue door open to the lingering sun this stillness

       echoing from the rooms like an unfinished sound

this fraying of voices at the edge of the village

       beyond the dusty gardens this breath of knowing

without knowing anything this old branch from which

       years and faces go on falling this presence already

far away this restless alien in the cherished place

       this motion with no measure this moment peopled

with absences with everything that I remember here

       eyes the wheeze of the gate greetings birdsongs in winter

the heart dividing dividing and everything

       that has slipped my mind as I consider the shadow

all this has occurred to somebody else who has gone

       as I am told and indeed it has happened again

and again and I go on trying to understand

       how that could ever be and all I know of them

is what they felt in the light here in this late summer

                                         - W. S. Merwin