“Lie down; don’t lie; lie flat; lie still. See these
Books bound in itching white leather? They are
your life. And each feathery page, lifted by hot wind.
O summer air, o gardens, o seasons ô châteaux.
The glaring day, it binds, o occurrence, o soil o soul.

— Robert Fernandez, from “And,” PoetryNow (PoetryNow, 2015)”