Historia Calamitatum

If he needs to think he needs to think

of— as in, to think of the granular feel

of the light falling into the garden this morning,


this a light and melodious morning,

but it may not be needed, nor desirable,

this light, this necessity, this morning. “A world,”

the boy said to himself—a kind of thinking, to say,

as in “he said to himself, the world is bigger

than I then thought” when the boy


found himself awake in the garden

among granular manifestations of light

such mornings, this morning, that last

morning of his past, or so he thought,

he who was to suffer, like the little children.