Her shrill call comes carrying more
than this hour we keep.

And we desire a feather
to arrange for each hour,
as those before

but receive only hunger:
carnivore's memory,
an unfillable bucket.

Not to awaken us entirely
we fall into soft beds,
feathers.

See the fact of tomorrow and
tomorrow provided

like the floating "here"
in another's eye, this meal,

the uninterrupted dive.
We do not remember it.