let’s suddenly live without thinking
in our honest land;
wind does,
the mind of brainily-moving air
locked on the fierce dream
of destination.
by dusk
light has swallowed up the earth
so fiery
trees glisten in the shadows, with sweat
let’s live like a glance that echoes
and let’s
as meaning and rest, as silence
or the feathered-grass that wafts
to the pull of gravity
in an up-breathing draught