Of the Beloved Someone

Confused about that which
Touches nothing, without which
There would have been nothing,

Attend to it a moment,
Attend: as it retrieves,
On this day like no other,

A joy, once to have felt in it
Nothing to be acknowledged,
From an impact uplift, at the utmost

A breath, when close, a touch
Of the belovèd someone
Immediately wide-awake to it

Now, perceiving it diffused
Among new leaves, old spines
Of books perhaps, the moment

There is here again, the time
...