Do not fall victim to the same,
same-named sun that bears
on the odious eye.
When It rises grand and
falls backwards down the up-side
of the blue illusion, the bluision,
No thing is that as which it has been.
Let light fall like a leaf
into a darkness.
Darkness lights the distance
between old Henry and the thing,
the thing which has been carved
by his own dull mind
and of those before him.
Here in the dark, distance is endless,
and palpable. All things became
Henry's own by exploding
previous cornerstones built in light,
And when sight broods
on dawn again in that same way,
let all of the spring and winter
mold a copious nothing
into the structural sturdiness of
everything.
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