Poem - Gary Snyder

For a Stone Girl at Sanchi
half asleep on the cold grass
     night rain flicking the maples
under a black bowl upside-down
on a flat land
     on a wobbling speck
smaller than stars,
              space,
the size of a seed,
     hollow as bird skulls.
light flies across it
            --never is seen.

a big rock weatherd funny,
old tree trunks turnd stone,
     split rocks and find clams.
              all that time
loving;
two flesh persons changing,
     clung to, doorframes
     notions, spear-hafts
in a rubble of years.
              touching,
this dream pops. it was real:
     and it lasted forever.