.....

Let the silver drop away to reveal
       the silver engine.  Tasks of daylight
                  to be done away with
   that lead the eye in the woodpile
     treed cat watching a wire
         move in the contempt of your soul
               to paw the wood
    stacked on the stacked fire of its being
             grained to sing with microcosmic flight
                    in knotted crannies
                      whose still refusal
                                   strengthens the tide of the trees.