Each Day Gets Right What Can’t Be Got at All

What’s here in the world?
What is there in us?
Read it back to front.
Both ways the lights come
Up; the lights go down.

That’s what can’t be got—
The way the terms hang,
Sun, moon, none or one,
Cows, birds, fields, and stars,
The wind past the cars

That rush down the road,
That way there, then back
Here—all spun on wheels,
And still all one way,
And all gone for good.

The glass is not cracked
Yet, but it’s not cracked,
Just the terms that hold
The shine front to back.
Damp, death, snow, cows, cats,

Or what you like, what
You’ve seen in your life,
Learned from your own life.
Each day gets it right;
All days in all nights.