—After Stéphane Mallarmé’s “Apparition”
All the bells are ringing or have rung.
I heard them ringing in your mother’s voice
But the clapper alone is punctual.
I thought I sensed the boyhood superhero
Who, cordial and so unaffected, helped
In dreams to banish fear under a close
Brass-hued fog he’s rolling through the years
Along these lanes, the moon-sung valley cows
Regardful, still, between their shudderings.