plowing the vast acres
 
 of heaven and take it
 
 out on her in burning
 
 darts of anger. Long
 
 accustomed to such caprice
 
 she waits patiently
 
 for evening when thoughts
 
 of another night will
 
 restore his mellowness
 
 and her power
 
 over him.
 
 Question
 
 Angled sunbeam lowered
 
 like Jacob's ladder through
 
 sky's peephole pierced in the roof
 
 to my silent floor and bared feet.
 
 Are these your creatures
 
 these crowding specks
 
 stomping your lighted corridor
 
 to a remote sun, like doped
 
 acrobatic angels gyrating
 
 at needlepoint to divert a high
 
 unamused god? Or am I
 
 sole stranger in a twilight room
 
 I called my own overrun
 
 and possessed long ago by
 
 myriads more
 
 as yet invisible in all
 
 this surrounding penumbra?
 
 Answer