How Will the Hermit End

If he cannot find his hermitage
But stays in town like a social man
With an office, family, and mansion,

If he confuses fiction, drama,
And poetry with sighs at the moon,
Art with politics, joy with metrics,

If he sits in a chair with a sun
Carved into the back of it, watching snow

Drape receding veils past his window,

Waiting for the electricity
To come to life again, wondering

Why did he stoke the fire, hold the gold?