Geoffrey O'Brien's poems are full of things vanishing. The first three poems in his new book, In a Mist, appear to be elegies for vanished people. "For S." concludes:
A wisp is too harsh.
At mere hint of sight
all parts of you
drop into the glare.
"A Yard at Daybreak" ends:
The shop is shuttered
and the yard so quiet
you can hear the noise
of shadows vanishing.
