Let's give you an "Exercise on Problems of Vision."
I think I'll just take one exercise here--
no, two.
Between yesterday and tomorrow widowed wind runs wailing
Widows look small in the past
The days is endless and unrolling
Where does its frayed carpet go?
Yesterday I ate a plum, tomorrow's premise is the pit.
Pretend the sky is not a slowly forming stone.
As the hacksaw and the moose are equal in the abstract echo
of the year, the sky maybe an untried meaning a blurred tree
While we, as democratic as the moon, walk
in the thistle garden watching to see your net, wealth,
and complexity.
If we can pause let us hope for many choices
Let us praise puzzles, let us walk praising, praising
visions, human faces, finches, tables, flame, stoves
and ordinary cups of tea where immensity is in our school.