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)