The Dead West

What you call to mind
When you picture things,
When you try to see

The world you can see
Wholly in your mind—
A long horizon,

Someone being still
In harsh, desert light,
A washed-out film still

You’d fill with longing
And satisfaction
For lonesome feeling

If you could, when you can’t—
That’s the world where you
Put down your reading

And dream of walking
Like someone who walks
And walks, which you don’t.