Here's another poem by the same poet:

LEAP OF SURPRISE

We might even be able to contemplate without disdain
that piling up of what now is fine.
To return to delight, anticipate once more
a sort of loss under the leaves
of paper, in the kitchen, the newspapers,
the advertisements in the mailbox, the leaves of the countryside,
and how alone we are when everything is fine,
what laziness to climb the stairs, what rancor
of steps.