We mostly made buildings of different kinds of light stolen from trees, river bent and man-eating concrete culverts the silver of Ariadne’s thread stretched from crypt to bald-faced waiting mountains, mercury temper gathered in two cupped, prayerful hands disdain transparent but distorting with the descendant ripples of amphibians slipped between numbed fingers sloughing away grey autumn mud, sheathing calves as if wading rancid pools beset by the warfare drone of damsels and of dragonflies made us legionaries languid as invasion with all its noxious gifts matted reeds as if a holy child, in some regretful sacrifice was abandoned here