Trembling veil, my limit —
whether I plumb the Marianas Trench
as waves of doubt thunder
miles above;

or brush a stand of birch
with sheathes of rain, or net
a white noddy adrift
on beds of kelp;

whether and whither the mind
wanders in dreamy disquietude,
asleep of a prairie noon
as buckboards creak,

prepared to risk the latitudes
of chance and trance —
to the Querent convey
a warning word:

awake the world, the skin
is supple and resilient —
susceptible to stroke
or sudden heat.

But with a glance this veil
will fall as when a flower falls
glanced by the iron edge
of a passing plow.