For of pure presence a moment
is all
needed--oh, given!--this
say what I want and have it --scares away -- doubt
the world knows.
Poor fools crying we don't
live forever when most of us don't even want
to live today. The morning a cloud chamber,
snowfields sublime in wet air, scarves unwinding
to heaven, pure
matter ascends. Tug Hill erased,
edges smudged in cloud tops. A crow coughs, tubercular,
then three racing geese go making sky
palpable as they approach and flash into
vision and out.
All night night held me in her arms and cherished
breath I gave away. Freed, I am not needed
here--it's all just offering. If spring
comes, it will be for love.
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