STEPPING OUTDOORS AFTER WAKING looking at the almost light half the sky clear half cloudy remembering how at the reading the dying man listened and slept listened and slept and still I felt he missed nothing open a door close a door the door is still a door the outside and inside remain where they are and he for whom the door is made is the same whether he goes straight through or pauses with a hand on the knob considering the brain has a mind of its own sorry thing set in the ground of its flesh to flourish as best it can in the world it imagines bearing down on it and bearing it up when the mind sleeps the world that made it sleeps with it it is in a world of clouds denser towards the core but still only clouds with nothing to rain on but the thing planted there made of clouds silver in all its branches shining back what shone on it