And that you hold the same one hawk each day I pass through my field
                                                                                       up. And that it
                                                                                       may choose its

You can still bear them in that phase, the north and
south laid up against each other, constantly erasing
each minute with each minute.

  When I caught sight of them, the secret lovers,
I had been watching the pink-edged white blossoms
  in the garden below

Black bars expanding
      over an atomic-yellow ground — feelers retracted —
the monarch lay flat on the street

Then two juncoes trapped in the house this morning.
  The house like a head with nothing inside.
The voice says: come in.

  Is it because of history or is it because of matter,
mother Matter—the opposite of In-
  terpretation: his consort: (his purple body lies
shattered against terrible

It begins in blindness: taste of invisible ink;
black mouthful of discreet syllables,
punishable. Shrouded in touch, at the shut

The doors are closed. I shall not write another!