To the Reader

Some scattered sense of meaning
I have hoped to find, some sense--
A kind of archipelago of the mind.
The even breathing of sleep in the sentence,
The lengthened shadow of winter afternoon.
You can see the wonder, surely:
By turning toward the west, we leave
The east behind. But this is abstract.
How about this: My leg’s asleep,
And I wonder that I could be so intent
On you that I’d forget to shift my weight.
You see? That’s my meaning. The small
Metaphor, the large purpose, the body of work.
We polish the mirror, make it shine, to show…what?