I think it is well known now
how you can take one part of the country
and re-erect it somewhere else, how the abrupt, snow-streaked
mountains of New Mexico hang in a dark corner
of your uncle’s hall. And some mornings in late winter
the trees are diadems of ice,
the way they were once, miraculously, on the river in Florida,
when you were a child. It is not
that we wish the courage
to ask a co-worker
for the loan of her beach house, it is not
that. Or the mad woman,