Lanthanum 1.15

i.m. P.M.

Winter's low sun and watercolor sky.
A special, spectral lightness of the light
held fast in snow. One raven's mute flight,
skywriting memoirs of life's fever, far away.

To start from a place of ubiquitous limestone.
Ravines, apartments, courthouses, train stations...
everywhere this mild kind sedimentary companion
whose humble self-effacing flint, flesh-toned, is

swathed in protozoic hieroglyphs. Fossils
and broken shells, arrowheads, snails,
faint tracks, primordial insect-trails...
garrulous cipher-slabs, teeming with life-stills.

Immobilized (morphology-Pompeii).
A remote life-world, more distant in the cold.
A secret agent binds its numbered mold, its
elemental patrimony-prism (one green ray).

Through snowy limestone, memory grows light.
Slowly, slowly. A sort of sarabande
by seasonal contraries. You understand
as you are dispossessed of what you thought

you wanted, had... and understanding (finally)
you have it, have it truly now – again, again.
Crystallized (like fossil, frozen hexagon).
A perfect, ineluctable Law (sung tenderly,

afloat, ascending). So one trusty star-
fish hovers motionless above slow-moving
time – out from limestone riverbank, singing
she swims... (light bark upon the river R).