In the twilight of my audacityI saw you flee the world, the burnt
Of summer gave up their light:
Followed you with the uncommon
Of fear-supported and disbursed eyes.
Towards the dark that harries the
Of dawn I pursued you only.
I
Companionless.
The seething
Of cornstalks, the rat-pillaged
Censured the lunar interior of the night.
High in what hills, by what
Are you intelligible?
Your fierce
Beyond the nubian bulwark of the
Sustains the immaculate sight.
To the green tissue of the
Worm I have come back, two-handed
The chase, and empty.
I have pondered
Carefully, and asked:
Where is the
When the pigeon moults his
Or exile utters the creed of memory?
