Parading

So that not only did some kind of shutter flick open

To live at all is to grieve;

the soul speaks and the soul receives.

Clouds slid their shadows

So that nothing can be said for certain except

Perhaps there is a moon shining

I am standing in a sunlit meadow.

Be; and at the same time know the state

Vie with hot verities.

sauntering out of the almost-