1690
Not by a slant light caught,
But read through a sieve of years
That patterns obliquity;
An angle and an aspect,
Eye, face,
From first remembered to this many last,
Approximates a love in time.

1689

1688

1687

1686

(artist: Kevin McDowell)

1685

1684

1682

1681
Vicinal to these shapes,
The blocks of occluded sun
Rigid with fractal precision
In the parking lot,
Stood the early shoppers,
Disguised in the wan futurity
Of contemplated addition,
That at the fore-grasped moment
Uncloaks the present self,
Impotent to make this without within.
Over-rising the blacktop
The heated air skims a hawk across,
Her being her seeking.

1680

1679

1678

1677

1676
A certain levity
Is condign
In a normal situation:
The jest is to be such,
As finite as a worm
In his cube of common earth,
Tasting perpetuity
In a knot of soil.

1675

1674

1673

1672

1671
I am complicit in humanity's
Dark within,
Yet justly breath the air;
Where self and selfless is,
I am;
In the organic volume
To a signature sewn,
That holds every thing and thought,
We are;
In a wordless vastness:
From this star to the farthest
Lies only in the mind,
And exquisite mathematics.
To here apportion cause
Is wonderful seriousness,
Else a faith in a place without measure.