435

434
May what's next follow,
Post and prompter, in sequent obedience,
As the proximate tile falls.
Or-- may love's predilection be love
As day and night in time's hapless frame,
Neither wanting next, yet so.

433

432
In sleep, infiltration. By.
In sleep you
Sublimate day:
Memory a water sheet
Fading on hot metal night,
Folding into dream sight.
.
Infiltrated by wind-wrought
You, far, but in dawn-light clarity
There you are.

431

430

429
Self-regard's fair excuse
Is a child at a glass--
What seems reflection's invention.
.
But undone's time's advantage
From that center drop spread--
If it seeks reverberation.

428

427

426

425

424

423

422
These things have no significance,
Tree, sky, the walkers frozen in their search,
The still sun.
The calculus of the day is writ with small precision
On a page fading as done.

421

420

419

418

417

416