Many days in the woods he wonders what it is
that he has for so long hunted down. We go hand
in hand, he thinks, into the dark pleasure,
but we are rewarded alone, just as we are married
into aloneness ..
There is light or more light, darkness and less darkness.
It is, he decides, a quality without definition.
Like the arbitrary silence in the white woods,
leaving tracks in the snow he cannot recognize.
Not the Happiness but
the Consequence of Happiness