ii asks
As I sleep away my mourning, grass walks, asks, “what is it that the children of rain remember most?” The story answers, waters the plaint – As I seep away my morning, grass is worm is root as this poem is awake with heal-
“How does the strange earth bear fruit, does it know which road shall converge into dark & which one shall be the rabbit?” I stand as it all begins to flower & then smoke - the fruit bearing earth now rustles its feathers-