Rosmarie Waldrop

AN OBJECTIVE 
 

See also. The sunís lance come to rest. The rays to a focus. And speak. Most children learn to use language. More for security. Since Kerith is long dry, and the ravens, and the dust of ravens. And the dream ending. 

The desire for what is perfect. Objectively? Satisfactionís unlikely, illegible. Frequently distressed. But language as though. Or thought. More opalescent, more magical since you gathered mushrooms. Mushrooms while you mayed. 

Inextricably the direction. Of particulars. Particles? Pulled-glass bottle in the shape of a fish, miraculous draught. Or refinement of the reverie processes by which we meet life. And leopards in their spots. The refinement is the reference to others. Pulled toward, and doubt. 

Thing or things. Event or chain of events. Bachís Matthew Passion in Leipzig and metallurgical plants in Siberia. Or the real fork. Detail of seeing. Proportional to not easy to separate. If you think how to tell a stranger, your mental process approaches. The tuneís image holding in the line. 

Thinking with things as they exist. Winged wild geese. Along a line of melody. Along the large muscle of the back, which passes from the spine to the head. Where in the opening of the roof in ancient houses stood the air. Or the wings of certain insects, iridescent. But in the blood the pale spaces of verse. Are not seen, but move. 


___________________________________