Sometimes the celestial syrup slows
into vines
stumps, rock slopes,
it’s amazing in fact how
slow it can get – diamond:

but then sometimes it flows
free in a flood
and high
so procedure drowns out
perception

practically, a roof showing
here and there
or a branch
bobbing:
as skinny

wind it recalls
and promises everything
but delivers nothing
except the song that
skims the mountains

and makes no sense
(except all sense)
to us
slowed discrete
out of following

(A.R. Ammons)

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