1 While crickets sing like sm...

1

While crickets sing like small chinks in a chain, couple friends sit in a compass with corniced windows opening forward a maple and the lukewarm night air, one reading to the other the same a poem about a reader in a range alone and reading to himself, his light the sole light. Each voice takes diverts to make the vigorous of the story as it should be, turning it through on his tongue to cast his listener back against what he had heard first, when he first heard what had to be told, as if to diocese which pleased the other more.

2 Rehearsal

I take the stairs up: the eagle, Saint Paul above the