the wonder sprights, already foolish
& cramped into history, those sunny
clump-by-jot animals do ring grammatically
(they thought I was of the sea, from
the slow dark of the waves, but I was
of the sky, though still counted among
the meat Virginia's characters paw)
& in the tombs of the Sun they crouch
squatted though they're wingéd
the first who beheld Moon already Moon
together they shine an immense letter
southward from Three Ghost Circle (as
the Sun is addressed on Faucet Hill)
& in the tombs of the Sun they crouch
|