Missing the Cranes

You were sharp|ning grass With your eyes | sit & fixed Again | a substitute for mow|n Machine chug|ging along lug Nuts, molar friction | u - r - n . Lawn stretches of up|beat Beach | was there even wind? Filet a cannonade me | see The crayons fly | in a circle A head | towards blu|er | stretches There | where clouds resemble. Light is a commodity, scream! Silly | man | omnibus no teacher Not even a man. Well still: Lorine Niedecker e|merges like new Breath, pulp come together Mis|hearing cranes, a making Multicolor wax, bending fuse Forge |X| fissure for left foot | Right foot,—we'll find a job a kind Of game | it’s just planes turned Paper crane | creosote guardians A dead lean-to shouldering volts.