From the Book of Giants

Song

                        for Thom Gunn

There is no east or west

in the wood you fear and seek,

stumbling past a gate of moss

and what you would not take.

And what you thought you had

(the Here that is no rest)

you make from it an aid

to form no east, no west.

No east.  No west.  No need

for given map or bell,

vehicle, screen, or speed.

Forget the house, forget the hill.

Taking its title fro...