Darting semaphore of crows in sky, on ground, amongst and beyond. They weather. Green things begin with nuclear device. Flicker or cascade in the servient moment as a tree or daffodil. The earth owns a warm, moist crust of preservation. Occult peonies appear, rhyme transforms, you can’t be kidding. You’ve heard the same words in collective tones. Walk a field as a drum, in boom consent. The sun shines into overcast. Water flows very familiar, Concord to Merrimack to the Gulf of Maine. Human tides on course, watched equally by crow and rabbit. Everything affects constitution. The circle begins where the circle began.
The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.
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