Conversation

w.s. merwin has died. he was so prolific and had such a long working life that i've only ever read a small fraction of his output, but he left a mark on the way i think.

i can't even find my favorite poem of his - it had an image in it of seeing houses that aren't actually there. all i have is this kind of sense impression of it. i suppose that's mostly what a poet leaves, if anything: the memory of the shape of a transmitted experience.