Scattered among bundles of flax in the rain,
pinned under water by smooth stones, broken,
spun, wound, and gathered in bright skeins
of blond thread-like bronze or silk, I gained
knowledge of the old ways still unspoken,
scattered among bundles of flax. In the rain,
I was scutched to the marrow, yet no pain
could reach me, I had become that token
spun, wound, and gathered. In bright skeins
of filament, to be woven- to be changed
into pattern, as though having woken,
scattered among bundles of flax in the rain,
but risen up through darkness, newly arrayed
with morning. And would become, in time, omen
spun, wound, and gathered in bright skeins
of light, rags into paper, unconstrained
words cast there like silk, or bronze gnomon-
scattered among bundles of flax in the rain,
spun, wound, and gathered in bright skeins.
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