After Lucretius.(Poem)

After Lucretius 
 
   I 
 
   It happens from time to time, 
   on days like this 
 
   --in winter, when the air is cold 
   and still, 
 
   the boats at the harbour 
   perched on their wooden stocks, 
 
   the gaps between the houses 
   filled with light-- 
 
   it happens that I think of all 
   the vanishings I learned about in childhood: 
 
   that ship they found at sea, 
   unanchored, blind, 
 
   the table set for lunch, the galley 
   filling with steam; 
 
   the blank of the ...