Not Ideas about the Thing
      but the Thing Itself


      At the earliest ending of winter,
      In March, a scrawny cry from outside
      Seemed like a sound in his mind.

      He knew that he heard it,
      A bird's cry, at daylight or before,
      In the early March wind.

      The sun was rising at six,
      No longer a battered panache above snow . . .
      It would have been outside.

      It was not from the vast ventriloquism
      Of sleep's faded papier-mache . . .
      The sun was coming from outside.

      That scrawny cry-It was
      A chorister whose c preceded the choir.
      It was part of the colossal sun,

      Surrounded by its choral rings,
      Still far away. It was like
      A new knowledge of reality.


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