Qianwan, or On Looking Up Several Times to the Horizon While Reading

There is no shape of the tree
though we identify the tree by its shape
what I see in trees and steel sky
is patience and distance

Qianwan, or Some Thoughts at Ground Level

If river ice or puddle ice breaks
under the weight of the waning moon
what we’ll find beneath is the waning moon
can I love you any more fully beneath this sheath of being?