***
To Wisława Szymborska
Amidst the great questions stirs a tiny response.
It's kept busiest in the fall, when the question marks
drop from the great questions, like from great trees.
There gathering, here sweeping, it's too clever to be
smothered.
When the wind lets up you stuff the pillows
with riddles,
make preserves from the little questions,
carefully sorting
the useful ignorance from the useless.
It's a humble sight in its apron of truth
dappled slightly with mystery.