If in our sleep say an arch. Built of perfect religion.
Then the shadow and the copper cup. Trestles over it.
I put my mind away again. Watch the beautiful river.
Last night the geese crooned. The crickets a chorus.
We believe in God. The word. And the subtle shove to.
Enjoy the limp of light. It’s a wrecked and splendid.
Day. In fact I’ll hymn it for you under here tonight.