The cornel-buds are still white,
but shadows dart
from the cornel-roots -
black creeps from root to root
each leaf
cuts another leaf on the grass,
shadow seeks shadow,
then both leaf
and leaf-shadow are lost.

Here is a handful
of shadow I have brought back to you:
this decay, this hope, this mouth-
ful of dirt, this poetry.

of the same substance as the leaves

The shadow of the elms fell on me, the blue laughter of the water.
Night and moon! Where am I. I break into sweet slumber, silver witches hair flutters around me! Strange nearness darkens around me.

born of root and sap