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Straight up from this road_x000D__x000D_Away from the fitted particles of frost_x000D__x000D_Coating the hull of each chick pea,_x000D__x000D_And the stiff archer bug making its way_x000D__x000D_In the morning dark, toe hair by toe hair,_x000D__x000D_Up the stem of the trillim,_x000D__x000D_Straight up through the sky above this road right now,_x000D__x000D_The galaxies of the Cygnus A cluster_x000D__x000D_Are colliding with each other in a massive swarm_x000D__x000D_Of interpenetrating and exploding catastrophes._x000D__x000D_I try to remember that.
How can I appreciate light from an aging_x000D_ sun shining through new configurations neither pine_x000D_ nor ash? How can I extol the nuturing_x000D_ fragrances from the spires, the spicules_x000D_ of a landscape not yet formed or seeded?
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