Our plane has already been de-iced
but sleet comes over the wings again like a coating of dust
on the wide leaves of a rubber plant—

Lost souls in Chekhov watch the fireflies emerge
from the woods, haltingly, and mope: "One day we'll know
the reason we have lived and why we have worked

You wake and reach for the phone. No one is harmed 
if you call your wife to claim you have seen the Pacific 
at dawn, running for miles over the quick