26 April 2012
















1852
With what grave certainty
Does this light fall without me.
What fatal issue lies
On a starling's back,
Or in the exhalation of tobacco
From a crowded woman's lips?
The word is not a sun,
But I am
Of symbols being.
The shadow darting of the bird,
Wants no observation,
Yet I am by this made,
In certain light.

12 April 2012


























1842
An invitation to an eye's
Cathedral surrender
Is a pattern on a wall,
Part-pattern of a larger,
Whose parts hold every stone expression
And compassing sky,
And fundament too to these:
What was reckoned is reckoning
Insensate and still.