Right here the treasure.
Shine of rain
on the red fire hydrant.
It will not buy anything,
but in this very moment
there is nothing to buy
and no one from whom to buy it,
only a fragrant, rainy afternoon
with the gutters full to spilling
and not another soul on the street
and the aspen leaves on the hill
just at the edge of gold.
Yes, those aspen leaves as closing, and I saw them all over the mountains this week, all, like you say, just at the edge of gold.