Measure

We were wide; the way was narrow;

we could feel trees ripening, cherries or no,

and we found the pleasures of dreamlife

unrecognizable as fruitful

except inside ourselves. Things increased

by layering: trees ripened, it got dark;

it was too difficult to wish for less,

to clear ourselves away in readiness for a future happiness

where we might be reformed as something lit and slight and clear.

Some days we felt each seed complicit with us, privately,

and gemstones were, and rain. So it was strange

when we saw tall trees make water-movements in the air,

or we saw a peony withhold one blade of fire,

a pearl's interstice with dirt, rain's tongue.

We felt what entered others cross to pass into our sleep

whether we were known or not,

to show how slight, how variable any body was.