In the popular belief, ghosts are a selecting tribe, avoiding millions, speaking to one.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Demonology,” North American Review, 1877
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.
-Jane Kenyon, “Let Evening Come,” , 1996
