It was not death we came to fear but her life,her other birth, waking remade from the womb
of that disease. One leg was withered, a dragging-
In the patient, quiet museum, she is exhibitedclosed, indehiscent inside a glass casket,
reclining on her back, on hair long as her spine.
In the morning we found40 acres of oakstorn to the ground.
In the alluvium ofthe hot afternoon,where the day’s clarities […]
