Heart's Needle [antikvár]

Ten Days Leave He steps down from the dark train, bhnking^ stares At trees Hke miracles. He will play games With boys or sit up all night touching chairs. Talking with friends, he can recall their names. Noon burns against his eyelids, but he lies Hunched in his blankets 5 he is half awake But still lacks nerve to open up his eyes 5 Supposing it were just his old mistake? But no^ it seems just like it seemed. His folks Pursue their lives like toy trains on a track. He can foresee each of his father's jokes Like words in some old movie that's come back. He is like days when you've gone some place new To deal with certain strangers, though you never Escape the sense in everything you do, "We've done this all once. Have I been here, ever?" But no^ he thinks it must recall some old film, lit By lives you want to touchy as if he'd slept And must have dreamed this setting, peopled it, And wakened out of it. But someone's kept His dream asleep here like a small homestead Preserved long past its time in memory Of some great man who lived here and is dead. They have restored his landscape faithfully: