Out of the fog comes one
of peculiar genius, of particular genius;
the face appears long enough
to look at mine, to be looked at,
then vanishes back into the gray,
where it stays however loudly
and however long I might call.
Light my path to you
with incandescent candor—
or I will see it as invitation
to wander elsewhere, away.
I am looking at you,
taking you seriously,
trying to see you.