Let us go at the meaning
of the word

its cloud

Let us go out into the morning
when the milk is in its fountain
then trembled
first bird’s grey wing
to awake the landscape
its doubtless, convex eyes
like the droplets in the spiderweb’s
glassier fibers
there is a tinier landscape
whole, faithful
the spider is shepherding
in each of its droplets
turning 360 degrees
sliding down the optical
real to the moment
no one is there
not even you in this poem
you must subtract
yourself, to see
the morning begun by milk
by a pan of milk
put out for the animals
in the dark space
before it
ever began



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