And then you ask: Is the mirror cracked,
Or is it so bright that it casts a beam
Through all the shadow scheme?
One time I saw a river's bank
Shaved down with spades as sheer as a wall,
Wasp holes, snake holes cut in two
Brought these molds of earth to view.
I turned away where the air was blank
And here was a thing fantastical:
Space was cored like the honey comb