The last book was called The Compass Flower.
We'll start with two little poems, which in a sense
are like the two faces of a diptych.
And they're about Resurrection and in an odd way.
The first is called the horse.
And I like it the poems about that, which I didn't even think
were about that, of course.
Should be poems about animals.
In a dead tree, there is the ghost of a horse.
No horse was ever seen near the tree.
But the tree was born of a mare.
It rolled with long legs in rustling meadows.
It pricked its ears.
It reared and tossed its head.
And suddenly, stood still beginning
to remember as its leaves fell.