the rogue inland, exceeding
its testimony

pastel fissures
my thought enters, & then
recedes (as though)

from the pneumatology

of that, congruent
(with itself, I mean in self-
sufficiency,
some mute autonomy)

it’s dawn again,
I’ve found myself in winter’s
debt of flare

parietal, & lighting

(as it does) the habitable
shelf, the macadam
heaving in the prime clutch

professed terrain

straggling past
where the choir dispersed,
a dispossession cast

as seed
along the limestone matrix

& field-stubble,
proclaiming its obedience