Like always, you can mark strand
Who went missing to make whole.

He became a hole in a 2014 whole,
No longer left stranded in the hole.

Good we all shall feel in the porch
A wind around staring at our hole.

When we are a lack of field in field
And field feels lack of us in whole.

A porch feels nothing in the night
Except a lack of day on the whole

And lack of night in Strand’s hole
When air rushes to make it whole.

(Remembering poet Mark Strand who passed two years ago)

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