2536

2535

2534

2533

2532

2531

2530

2529

2529
An accidental shadow
With a fine tolerance measured
Was a phantom malformation proved,
At the aponeurosis 
Of what I think there is
And what there is.
In a field by May surrounded,
I was of a stone considering,
In a picnic sun, the weight
Of death and perpetuity.

2528

2527

2526

2525

2524

2523

2522

2521

2520

2519

2518

2518
The silent buddha is made of stone,
Of stone the silence too.
His home articulate
With the atmosphere,
Articulate with thought:
The morning sky is but the temple apse
That opens the vaulting span,
There upon the first hour braced,
Here entangled in the rising sun.

2517