At some point in life the world’s beauty becomes enough. You don’t need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough. No record of it needs to be kept and you don’t need someone to share it with or tell it to. When that happens — that letting go — you let go because you can.
“Voilà la Plaza and an array of vertical ties
Uh-oh Bomb-squad vans parked outside
I feel renegade and clairvoyant
amidst the secret securities
with doodads in their ears
Maybe it’s the President again
outside the St. Moritz
I pause at the lovely liatus
The sweet autumn clematis”
Maggie Nelson | “Carnegie Hall”