Dark View

The sun that puts its spokes in every

Wheel of manhandle and tree

Derives its path of seashines

(Sheer centrifugality) from my

Regards. I send it

My regards. Some yards

Of lumen from the fabrika

Have come unbolted from the look

Of it (or likes of me), a long

Unweaving or recarding I

Cannot recall begun, and there

Before my eyes a palm

Puts lashes round the sun.