Leaves floating on the water
Like faces floating on the surface of a dream，
On the surface of a swimming pool
Once the holocaust was complete.
And then I passed through stages of belief
And unbelief， desire and restraint.
I found myself repeating certain themes
Ad interim， until they began to seem quaint
And I began to feel myself a victim of coincidence，
Inhabiting a film whose real title was my name ——
Inhabiting a realm of fabulous constructions
Made entirely of words， all words
I should have known， and should have connected
Until they meant whatever I might mean.
But they're just fragments really，
No more than that.
A coast away，
And then across an ocean fifty years away，
I felt an ashen figure gliding through the leaves
—— Bewitchment of intelligence by leaves ——
A body floating clothed， facedown，
A not-so-old philosopher dying in his bed
—— At least I thought I felt those things.
But then the line went dead
And I was back here in the cave， another ghost
Inhabiting the fourth part of the soul
And waiting， and still waiting， for the sun to come up.
Tell them I've had a wonderful life.
Tell Mr. DeMille I'm ready for my close-up.