The fields eating. Each among and were as need be.
The morning wind gently. To and, and the sun.

Upon where spread bees, spread the little dust
from yellow milkweed, was the bright.

And then away to the ferns while replied in her eyes
is to keep the many ways she tried, sick for want

of sunlight. We have watched shower, but still.
Thus have we. And this night for the last time us

and we, or her now. Or I shall be.