from THE DAYLIGHT SECTIONS (49)

here
is what
happens when sunlight

occupies the th/ought
of heart:
multiplication

others
become one
with each other

I never moonlight
anymore because
equivalence

reveals
without bothering
to explain in

words that only
complicate the
meaning

listen
to all
the sounds here

she tells me
so I
do:

air
machine, cars
passing, hum of

electric lighting although
not needed
noonish

when
I arrive
to speak centuries

her eidetic recollection
providing renditions
anew

I
hear my
stories told back

to me: I
learn them
again

now
salt lamp
some orange, some

gray, gives warmth
as well
as

light,
the quiet
compares well with

time together there
her office
magnifying

each
moment wanted
to last constantly