We have a new poet laureate, W.S. Merwin. Here is one of his:
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
All day the stars watch from long ago
my mother said I am going now
when you are alone you will be all right
whether or not you know you will know
look at the old house in the dawn rain
all the flowers are forms of water
the sun reminds them through a white cloud
touches the patchwork spread on the hill
the washed colors of the afterlife
that lived there long before you were born
see how they wake without a question
even though the whole world is burning