The Far The Few

And where are the voices that would
Tell me how to go? How am I
To know the route forgotten and
Diminished by the past, the
Shale that slid and fell?  I am
Silent here, in my forgetting, in my
Welling being of pieces plugged and
Still.  How  quiet the hills we climb,
How wide the sunny plain, can I
Take an easy step and reach
For all I hoped would be?  Where
Are the voices that could
Tell me how to see?  Have I
Stayed the same throughout
My passage here?  I remain,
At any rate, and what is
Most clear to me now
I cannot clearly have, unless
It be a drift of dreaming
Love and all the
Smiles I ever knew - too
Far and too few.

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