At the Methodist ice cream sociable they meet
he in a hot straw hat, she in her dusk-colored
skirts
that in a corner of the night begin unfolding.
A principle is established: a thing like a tiny dot
in the center of a piece of virgin paper
begins unfolding, doubles and lies flat
panting with the effort, doubles itself again.
Nothing is involved that we could call
Consciousness, any more than in the automatic