i

The All-Day Bird, the artist,
whitethroated sparrow,
striving
in hope and
good faith to make his notes
ever more precise, closer
to what he knows.


ii

There is the proposition
and the development.
The way
one grows from the other.
The All-Day Bird
ponders.


iii

May the first note
be round enough
and those that follow
fine, fine as
sweetgrass,
                  prays
the All-Day Bird.


iv

Fine 
as the tail of a lizard,
as a leaf of
chives—
the shadow of a difference
falling between
note and note,
a hair’s breadth
defining them.


v

The dew is on the vineleaves.
My tree
is lit with the
break of day.


vi

Sun
light.
        Light
light light light.