One Can Miss Mountains
and pine. One
can dismiss
a whisper’s
revelations
and go on as
before as if
everything were
perfectly fine.
One does. One
loses wonder
among stores
of things.
One can even miss
the basso boom
of the ocean’s
rumpus room
and its rhythm.
A man can leave
this earth
and take nothing
-- not even
longing -- along
with him.
Poems by Todd Boss
Click to listen
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Copyright 2008 Todd Boss. All rights reserved. Reprint permission available upon request. First published May 12, 2008 in THE NEW YORKER.
