improve their minds and sensibilities at
museums and archeological sites, I
dig into my own so
wondering about the wealth and complexity I rejected
or gave away."
And, in the same poem, "California Eyes: A Meditation From Poitou-Charentes," we read:
That's me, loving the surfaces,
always the surfaces.
That's how I knew, wheNever rejected,
it was my own surfaces
that had failed."
That's three times in a four-page poem, you mention "superficial"!
Well, most sensitive people have dark moods and various occasions to doubt their own sincerity! Fortunately, these moods and doubts and implacable regrets are balanced by the scrutinies of age, wisdom extracted from failures: