Alice Oswald, A Rushed Account of the Dew

A Rushed Account of the Dew

I who can blink
to break the spell of daylight

and what a sliding screen between worlds
is a blink

I who can hear the last three seconds in my head
but the present is beyond me
listen

in this tiny moment of reflexion
I want to work out what it’s like to descend
out of the dawn’s mind

and find a leaf and fasten the known to the unknown
with a liquid cufflink
and then unfasten

to be brief

to be almost actual

oh pristine example
of claiming a place on the earth
only to cancel