we are asleep with compasses in our hands

[nightdog_barks]

That's a line from a poem by W.S. Merwin, called The Estuary. He passed away this morning, aged 91. Here's one of his short poems --

Separation

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.

Comments

[taiga13]

Whew. Three such powerful lines.