Over Again

In ravaging rush of its first freshness,
in scavenging brush of its first freshness,
in savage thirst of its first freshness,
the work lacked need of any confidence

for it was for itself only itself
knew nothing of  all outward accounting
oblivion was sovereign preserve
consent of the governed went without saying

I go reliably there to refresh,
appear within the walls at the cold well
as a stranger in the tattered clothing
of all the daunting of experience

but when I dip my cup, drink from the well
I forget myself, start over again