The Discovery

When we saw the city,

We believed again in time.

Line of the tall spires and the bend

Of a bright sky.

We believed again in space.

Light of the large looms

and the roof of the great eye.

We believed again in perfectibility

(if not perfection), in the fresh

(if not the new).

We named it progress. The past

was not warm, so we named it dead.

We named everything we could not touch

Passed. We believed

Again in what was large.

Might of the long road and

The risk of the big wish.

When we made the step back.

Look. There. Clear measure

Of the flock on the far tip,

Of all the missed trips.

When we saw the city—