restricted access Metamorphosis
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34 Metamorphosis The hammock was a blue cocoon, And I, its seeing worm, A fading tune, a crescent moon, The threads about me, firm. I fell into a purr of sleep Amid the greeny glint, The dewy weep, the leafy sweep Of myrtle and of mint. And while I slept, the tree went round In galaxies of shade, Till every pound and every sound Were blissfully unmade, And I was scattered everywhere As nothing in no place; No web of air, no net of care, No earth, no tree, no face. ...


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