Wonalancet

At the levelling, trees cut away
a shaft of clarity
cuts the thick heat

and then, out there
three yellow patches form on the nubbly green
meet at two corners, trapezoidal, neat
undesigned:

a new place, unshrouded by the mountain.

And then you make it out: the house
(that blotch in the corner of the nearest field)
the spire, cars on the Sandwich road

and distance
stretches down like a wire
over the heavy trails

from this sudden window in the mountain

reducing what we reeled about at night in
...