The places I have not been

The wind dying, I find a city deserted, except for crowds of
people moving and standing.
    Those standing resemble stories, like stones, coal from the
death of plants, bricks in the shape of teeth.
    I begin now to write down all the places I have not been—
starting with the most distant.
    I build houses that I will not inhabit.

Keith Waldrop, “Poet