Sonnet
The day-slate, erasing. Day shades into mist,
a graying peering, a graspless plain
ceding line to blur, figure to stain,
a dimming drowsing no substance can resist.
A mineral sifting, shale-whorl or schist
that day the miner splits in flinting rain,
a breathing solid—air-ore—metallic grain,
many-bodied, nothing-boundaried, million-kissed
numinous rumor, edgeless and rent
in silver increments, shivering, to shift
water to air to earth to warmth to pure
motile stasis, like a whole veil, demure
infant-body, earth-nimbus, palest rift
and margin's minion—the whispered element.
