Matins
The floating endlessly again:
the glowing and the growing back
again as I am as I can and I can stand.
I understand.
Though I am fashioned
in the haggard image of a man,
I am an atom of the aperture.
I am as a nerve inside a gland.
I understand. Though I am fashioned
as I am, I am a perch for the eternal
and a purse for what it lends.
I understand.
Though flakes of fire
overwhelm the fallen snow, though ice
caps melt, though oceans freeze or overflow,
somehow I am sturdier, more sure. 
A Note on “Quarantine”
Sext
None
Nocturne
Matins