You know,
I try, when darkness falls,to estimate to some degree —by marking off the grief in miles —the distance now from you to me.
And all the figures change to words:confusion, which begins at A,and hope, which starts at B, move towardsa terminus (you) far away.
Two travelers, each one with a light,move in the darkness, silent, dumb.
The distance multiplies all night.
They count on meeting in the sum.
