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HEDGE LIFE
- Wesleyan University Press
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HEDGE LIFE At morning we all look out As our dwelling lightens; we have been somewhere. With dew our porous home Is dense, wound up like a spring, Which is solid as motherlode At night. Those who live in these apartments Exist for the feeling of growth As thick as it can get, but filled with Concealment. When lightning Strikes us, we are safe; there is nothing to strike, no bole For all-fire's shattered right arm. We are small creatures, surviving On the one breath that grows In our lungs in the complex green, reassured in the dawnsilver heavy as wool. We wait With crowded excitement For our house to spring Slowly out of night-wet to the sun; beneath us, The moon hacked to pieces on the ground. None but we are curled Here, rising another inch, Knowing that what held us solid in the moon is still With us, where the outside flowers flash In bits, creatures travel Beyond us like rain, The great sun floats in a fringed bag, all stones quiver With the wind that moves us. We trade laughters silently Falling 261 Back and forth, and feel, As we dreamed we did last night, our noses safe in our fur, That what is happening to us in our dwelling Is true: That on either side As we sleep, as we wake, as we rise Like springs, the house is winding away across the fields, Stopped only momentarily by roads, King-walking hill after hill. 262 ...