yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skillfully curled) all worlds
I dream of the silencethe day before Adam cameto name the animals,
The gold skins newly droppedfrom God's bright fingers, stillimplicit with the light.
A day like this, perhaps:a winter whitenesshaunting the creation,as we are sometimeshaunted by the spacewe fill, or by the formswe might have knownbefore the names,beyond the gloss of things.
—John Burnside.
—John Burnside