Passing Scenes (While Reading Bashō)

      by Franz Wright

I am traveling by train
to the city,
                    I am traveling
in brilliant sleep
into the past.

Meanwhile composing
a letter
to my inner no one.

   There were hives at the
edge of a wood.

The mind shines
  in the

The most beautiful house I ever died in.

Everything’s imaginary.

When I hear the dawn gulls cry,
even in New York
I long for New York.

From Wheeling Motel, New York: Knopf, 2009, page 62. The last three lines, of course, allude to a famous Bashō haiku about Kyoto.