Quarry
No more than the song of it. As if
the singing alone
had led us back to this place.
We have been here, and we have never been here.
We have been on the way to where we began,
and we have been lost.
There are no boundaries
in the light. And the earth
leaves no word for us
to sing. For the crumbling of the earth
underfoot
is a music in itself, and to walk among these stones
is to hear nothing
but ourselves.
I sing, therefore, of nothing,
as if it were the place
I do not return to —
and if I should return, then count out my life
in these stones: forget
I was ever here. The world
that walks inside me
is a world beyond reach.
——————————
Paul Auster
Collected Poems
Overlook Press, 2004
