There are places
where I do not know names
for the birds, or the flowÂers,
or mounÂtains.
That is the purÂpose of poetÂry,
to blur the expectÂed
so it clarÂiÂfies
in the heart.
I dust off old axioms,
inscribe them above doorÂways
of housÂes
seemÂing new again.
But to tell the truth,
I still must learn names
of the giants
that live there.
