from: Personal and Impersonal: Six Aesthetic Realists: Louis Dienes
The fields rush rapidly rapidly by the trains
That stand on clickety-clackety wheels
And all the while somewhere the memory dwells
Of one cat lying low,
Looking down below his nose
Through almost closed eyes.
The fields wind by
The water that lies
In the river bed on sands
Murmuring to passing shrubs and trees.
The memory of the flames of Rome
Mingles with reflections moving idly
On the surfaces of pools,
Mingles with fields over which
The sound of bells travels,
Mingles with light playing
On the tongue-combed coats of drowsy cats
In mind, in mind, in mind.
Personal & Impersonal (New York: Defintion Press, 1959)