Through the window
The window has forty
panes, forty clarities
variously wrinkled, streaked
with dried rain, smudged,
…
The window is a form
of consciousness, pattern
of formed sense
through which to look
into the wild
that is a pattern too,
bearing along the
shapes of the mind
…
The windy day
on one of the panes
a blown seed, caught
in a cobweb, beats and beats.
– Wendell Berry, excerpted from Window Poems 3
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