A Ream of Paper

I have a ream of paper,
a cartridge of ink, 

almonds,
coffee,
a wool scarf for warmth. 

Whatever handcuffs the soul,
I have brought here. 

Whatever distances the heart,
I have brought here. 

A deer rises onto her haunches
to reach for an apple,

though many fallen apples are on the ground.

--Jane Hirshfield (1953- ), American poet, translator, and essayist, from Ledger