Whom can we turn to / in our need? Rilke asks in the First Duino Elegy
yesterday’s street      some tree on a slope      O and the night,
the night when the wind full of worldspace / gnaws at our faces

I am sick of bamboo and wisteria thrusting their stubborn green outside my window
sick of gray lint packed into every crevice of my brain     I want night     gnawing at my face

And I want the day when I walked with my love up a mountain outside Gstaad
my hair dyed Autumn Leaf     I wore my yellow raincoat

the ground was wet     a woman bounded down followed by a poodle
who jumped up friendly and shook droplets     yes it was raining

and a few wild strawberries shone beside our feet
we climbed as far as the barn     the cattle trough
above us the mountain      the clouds