It was not this , nor even that
Says the triangle of envelope
Surrounding pencil’s memory.
Triangle tapers a life to death
As it is not this nor even that.
We arrive at “this” in triangle.
But there are gorgeous things
Outside triangle tapering off.
(Remembering Emily Dickinson’s envelope poem “It was not Death ,for I stood up..” that seems to adopt a Hindu way of arriving at truth by “Not this,Not this”-a process of elimination)