The finite enormity of it.
Everything reawoken by the absence of anything.
For once I can leave the grass unclaimed, sink into green and unmake
each cloud from my image.
The mountain painfully small above pins a star on my chest.
Even now, you have never been here.
And between spasms of light a tree loses its oakness. In undefined shadow I lose
only the skin of us.
Waiting in my ear the thunder behind silence,
in the hollow of my ear becoming silent.