Variation on a Line by Wallace Stevens

Two forms among the deadmove through this afternoon,my life, move through me,

and make of what I makeof this time, this place, anotherplace, another time, even

if we are all there againand part of it, as itis part of us. Things come

and go. We come and go,and go again, and come backchanged—how well we know.

How little we say, or wantto say, about it. These two formsthat formed me form me

still, and come againfrom out this death of deathto stand beside me here,

as we stood, we three, back then.