an arm, and a cloud
for the flower
of your daylight
irrigations, the noise

arrives       in this weak
and fast extinction

it cannot fall
for the seed
of your morning

memory, and the war
floats our beginnings
as we want
to know the freedom
of our solitary
animals. make one

see itself, as it knows
the farm grids
from above. (together)

we do not remain
outside, in
seasonal knots –
the abrupt unity
will carve a refuge
for the world

it will last
as among your flowers
the birds reveal us
as disaster
heals impediment, and speaking
to us – in the vision
of our disease
will see itself

and move
to be born