At These Mirk Hours

The weakness will not let
You fill the scene. Absence,
And the memory fails

To replace all the facts.
Imagination’s not
Too strong. It’s feebleness

That guesses at strange sounds
To suggest vague dangers.
Every fairy and ghost,

Every axe-murderer
Represents the failure
Of imagination.

Train yourself on small hours
To compare the shapeless
Ways shadows begin

With the specific forms
You will gradually learn,
Rich details truly there.