– 10 –

It is not permissible to discuss this phenomenon.

The concentration and splitting of light in the pattern of a hand’s full sweep, undeniable and then re-misted, chill in the damp dust whiff of first drizzle.

First the light and then its components and then the light and then its components.

The pale inversion reverberating the underside, demonstrating wave.

The pale reflection a dark space beyond.

In thirty-eight years I have known this a cartoon and symbol, a forced animation in walled gardens.

I will dare to mention now there were actual doves, a flock flashing.

(The word dove I have nerve to mention, not the other word.)

Not the word, a cartoon, and not the word behind it.

I adjure you: do not confuse the white sky now with the white light polished, the scurf of cloud with the raw stripe healed.

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Samples are excerpts from the book-length poem, not complete poems.