Parading

O, my scouring eye

I plant three seeds / As a spell. One

The earth is a beautiful place.

We’ll have to hurry. If we want to get started

I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra. Boning-up in

This poem

Rilke ends his sonnet “Archaic Torso of Apollo” saying

Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,

the perfume / of the world in which

I am a thing not new, I am as old