I See You, Refulgent Ones, Burning So Steadily Like Big White Arc Lights... There Are So Many Of You. I Like To Watch You Weaving - Altogether And With Precision Each His Ray - Your Tracery Of Light, Making A Shining Way About America. I Note Your Infinite Reactions - In Glassware And Sequin And Puddles And Bits Of Jet - And Here And There A Diamond... But You Do Not Yet See Me, Who Am A Torch Blown Along The Wind, Flickering To A Spark But Never Out.