Wang Wei Laments

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Into the nearly-nothing that hangs over lake water

flies a straggling V of Canada geese.

No letters from home, Wang Wei laments.

All that loneliness to be carried over the mountains.

Here, now, an almost-arrow pointing north

means this is practice only. The geese have time,

it is mid-September, warm here in Michigan

but colder next week. I find it hard to imagine

other weather. Faces and voices stranded

at different distances because goodbye was

never said, you didn't know. Is it too late,

could you let me know you arrived somewhere?