Can we go out to anywhere
Past this landscape of words
The broken ones, a vast stony clutter
Where the words come out of some silent mouth
To try to drive us away
Off into what darkness?

What answer lasts? What life stands?
It is late to pick up what is broken
But not too late: the point
May be never reached until it is at once
Too late and then
We can't. It ends.
It isn't dark or light.

Here
These words
Drop down
Obscure & commonplace as worn out stars
Dull unsensed lumps of nothing now
Littering this universe
Briefly
Like people do
Passing through it all
Then go
Out.