What is the case?
Small infractions. Bent brier, turned leaf:
integers opening the whole
a trail through the bushes.
What are the atomic facts?
The rocks are in the wood,
the lilies are on the lake
(as always), untouched by water.
What is the logical picture?
A pencil sketch at best —
the white birch against
hard bunches of winterberries.
What is the significant proposition?
On the path there lies a garter snake,
gently breathing in its own geometry
absolutely poised.
What is the proposition of the truth function?
Words fit into time,
a mouse in the mouth
(the serpent’s case).
What is the general form?
The wind bloomed that day
and all the leaves shook
like small bells.
And what one cannot speak one must?
