The dress of a woman of Lhassa, in its place is an invisible element of that place made visible. - Wallace Stevens

On a blue island in a sky-wide water The wild orange trees continued to bloom and to bear, Long after the planter’s death.

Is there a poem that never reaches words<p> And one that chaffers the time away? Is the poem both peculiar and general? There’s a meditation there, in which there seems To be an evasion, a thing not apprehended or Not apprehended well. Does the poet Evade us, as in a senseless element?

The imagination loses vitality as it ceases to adhere to what is real.