The sun is cold today
As smoke hazes down from the north.

The orange disc
[color=white]oooo[/color]Belongs to the azimuth of a different plane	
[color=white]oooo[/color]On the rock of some new star’s set
[color=white]oooo[/color]Hallowed as Burgon’s “minster fane”
[color=white]oooo[/color]By beings we forget.

Outside ourselves
[color=white]oooo[/color]Beneath a white of geologic frame
[color=white]oooo[/color]Where not a cloud from ocean settled
[color=white]oooo[/color]Can be discerned, perhaps are Cambrians to name,
[color=white]oooo[/color]Save that our appointments make us nettled. 
	
Circling in space
[color=white]oooo[/color]Redundantly, as a Saturnian moon
[color=white]oooo[/color]You would not know it, if you saw
[color=white]oooo[/color]Except the pall that covers all of June
[color=white]oooo[/color]Whose blue for us gives thought to law.