Night And Day
Let us sink into the deep
waters of sleep to bargain with the fish
at the least possible
not because abyssal voices
just the movement
of the black water, sumptuous, rich
of who knows which secrets.
the knife of the day
cleaves the shutters, penetrates, smooth,
a thin stream of light,
whiter than white
sheets flutter, while big birds
alight on haystacks scorching of yellow,
brook plunges down the fall that
Wheat fields reach out
to the horizon line.
Horses break away.