In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;   
I hear my echo in the echoing wood—...

The sky is cloudy, yellowed by the smoke.
For view there are the houses opposite
Cutting the sky with one long line of wall ...

Pale, then enkindled,
light
advancing,...

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,...

in Just-
spring          when the world is mud-
luscious the little ...

Perhaps, this morning, we’re there,
normal and soon forgotten, as news is
when it’s passed over breakfast, like love,...

In love, his grammar grew
rich with intensifiers, and adverbs fell
madly from the sky like pheasants ...

I

honey people murder mercy U.S.A.   ...

the remnant of a vast, oceanic
bruise (wound delivered early and long ago)
...

At last I can be with you!
The grinding hours
since I left your side!...