This is my envoy to nothing
where I say Go, little poem –
not out into the world of strangers’ eyes,
but off to some airy limbo,
home to lost epics,
unremembered names,
and fugitive dreams
such as the one I had last night,
which like a fantastic city in pencil,
erased itself
in the bright morning air
just as I was waking up.
– Billy Collins
heavenfaced 