Midstream, February 1st, 2004
A PSALM TO DAVID, TO DAVID A PSALM * First come the fields, wet and dark, then the darkness, like a cord, breaks, and then, half in, half out of my eyes, all is nest and open mouth. How noisy it is, how busy, this feeding, this hunger! Or else I wake, and the moon climbs a chain-link fence in random circuits, birds sit in cages that swing through the dark, the day is somewhere between death and death, and I have no voice. But silence is also an instrument, as the lyre is, too. And so I wait, learning to play or be played, to sing o...
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