Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Rilke's Death from development, of angels, welkin reminders, of what might have been, here, among other valleys' roots like magma, poured spirit one and then another; furious angels! invisible, whose arms illuminate the night harrowed from animals wounded, animals dying; among all orders, a command. With what might one counter the thin edge of the Real?; with what countenance?; with what countenance will Any listen? Multiples move, among multitudes; crossed by elk, by deer, by wolves, kestrel-binding holding fields (these wait for No One)

What hovers, soars (these move for No One)

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