Cantus

in the same dream I saw on a restless night
speaking through the cloudy ether void
the midnight hare elated at the foam
coating the end of a curious fingertip

no better had i felt the root of roots
than when she took me on a pocket walk
through places she reserved for solitude
on bright green mornings ere the midday wash

to see with my own very eyes above
the floating miracle before the meal
a thought came far too soon and stayed in me
behold the beauty of the afternoon