26. EUROPEAN VILLAGE

On a table standing in the grass—
Victorian bones of wood clashing with
          spider blades —
Rests the sky rocking softly
     as the ever lightly haze
     brought forth from tremors of vastness
     echoes from an empty hall filled with
     silent wind
     and colors.
Wind
behind my.eyes
fills my forehead with hair
waxes my cheeks
dries my lips
From the village where the people live
the church bell is ringing noon:
Wafting sensations of stew, of sauce, of
meat, unstoppered wine, sense of
being somewhere else or nowhere
(hunger) but how possibly in this place?
The hay, the hay, Jean-Pierre
The tails off the carrots, quick!
Come, children, we shall pray;
Eat, for it is given;
yes, the fields