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They changed for dinner. In those days // no one was in a hurry, it was real time // every time. Usually the streets were saddled with fog // at night. In the daytime it mostly blew away. // We kept on living because we knew how. // Maple seeds like paperclips skittered in the allees. // We knew not how many enthusiasts climbed the slope, // nor how long they took. It was, in the words of one, // "beholding" not to know. We eased by.

  -- John Ashbery, "Tension in the Rocks"