I have come slowly
to admit that I know
who you are one by one
O lovely and mournful
with downcast eyes
appearing to me as
you are turning away
to stand silent and late
in a remembered light
touched with amber
as the sun is going
from a day that it brought
you come to me again
and again to wait
as beautiful as ever
at the edge of the light
you have not changed at all
as far as I can tell
and you learn nothing from me
who do not talk with you
but see you waiting there
without once moving toward you
O forever hopeful
and forever young
you are the foolish virgins
with no oil for your lamps
and no one else to lead you
where you want to go
--W.S. Merwin
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