We are the mimics. Clouds are pedagogues. - Wallace Stevens

Is it he or is it I that experience this?

The clouds preceded us. There was a muddy centre before we breathed. There was a myth before the myth began, Venerable and articulate and complete. From this the poem springs: that we live in a place That is not our own and, much more, not ourselves And hard it is in spite of blazoned days.

The meeting of their shadows or that meet In a book in a barrack, a letter from Malay. But your war ends. And after it you return