He walks where light unravels
his cane a clock of sound;
each breath defines a border
that cannot stay around
He says that truth is vapor
that meaning must be thin;
we see because of fading
not clarity within
The harbor ghosts his outline
a bell interprets doubt;
the fog rewrites his thesis
and leaves the ending out
By noon he disappears
yet still the world is stirred—
for absence is a lecture
that needs no single word