How can they get the point

How can they get the point of how a world
then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.
Billows the fog, cloaks
shaded by live oaks and bottlebrush trees
Stars, the last day, endless and centerless,
Or else, like us, sunk into some long gaze
Before those virile women!
The form sought for centuries by
To run, as in the time of the bee, seeking
From point to point of meaning open? closed?
In search of brighter green to come. No way!
XII. The Mystery of the Missing Ships: The Franklin Search
At the white place of the road’s vanishing
The face of a Quos ego),
Beneath a pile of corpses, lying massed
To watch me watch drowned snow lift from the lake.
To reach out into its own vanishing
Dismal, endless plain
To follow in the path of their brief blossoming