You finally understand this poem
you say you’ve been taken with.
You say it is not about the stone
thrown into the lake, not about the sound
or the wetness or the depth,
or decreasing light, and heavens no,
it’s not about the ripples, not even
about the density of stone and water
or this joining that is not a joining.
You say it is about the intricate radiance
of this thought, not the measure of the impact
but what it imparts. You say this
while we are riding in the last seat
on a passenger train taking us
somewhere, just taking us.