Well, it’s a switchback while hiking from Rossetti to Hughes, but a natural path to Birthday Letters.
from Robbing Myself / by Ted Hughes
I peered awhile, as through the keyhole,
Into my darkened, hushed casket
From which (I did not know)
I had already lost the treasure.
Then, of course, there’s Simic with one of my other loves, those Greeks. Back to rivers, to the one where the moon sends only emissaries.
from Charon’s Cosmology / by Charles Simic
Once in a long while a mirror
Or a book which he throws
Overboard into the dark river
Swift and cold and deep
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