Subject: Juanita

From: "jacquette cynthea" <[email-masked]>
Date: Mon, 26 Mar 2007 11:05:12 -0500

Unreadable from behind-they are well down
The pain of being born into matter.
Choces, Mère and Père, undreaming even of fields
Coextensive with everything? How could they know?
It is as though I were at a second threshold.
One flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast;
Partly stone, partly the absence of stone,
XX. To the Pole
In the sound of the snow. What the countless
marked with a dark stroke from the left, encroached
From which, thanks to symmetry,
And all at once it is the meadow I walked in at ten,
Blurring the terrain,
Yes. The obvious
So you can watch me watch uplifted snow
and preening, dancing on the basepaths,
What is there in the depths of these walls
But when, on the timepieces that we call
From which, thanks to symmetry,