And why won’t you fall to me I’ll guess, O. In
The song of wooden animals
Why have you left your favorite girl? O, Cerulean,
Stellar, call for the dog, clapping your hands.
The rabbits are singing on the lawn
Again. Because of the moonlight,
the lawn becomes ink, O. Do rabbits sing
On other lawns, under other moons?
What comes to them in the day
That they cover the grass with their soft warbling?
O, What comes to them when they call?
For your girl is an occasion, she
Occasions. The ever-summer on the island of salt grass
And sulfur, O, a listing unlikely as dawn
Or rust-colored bloom on white fur.
The better dogs rise with the tide and their bask
Snaps the strings of night-mud. O.
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