Classification after Finding a Teacher by W. S. Merwin

In the cars and streets

and in the houses

and businesses

I have not found

my teacher

I think

I have not been looking

softly enough

I print my questions

on cards and stop

to bind and rebind them with string

the heavens of birdsongs

the blue and red constellations

what bees know

the yellow


its leaves

and all the leaves

all the kinds of pitches

and waves

in the universe

the stonemason’s patterns

this bridge

this wind wailing

all the cards fly into the trees

like doves

some fall here and

miles from this place

me trying to gather them

before the ink bleeds