this is kind of like that other poem, but different.
she's shaking like a ghost transcends from heaven, heaven-sent. you are [but not] an angel. [anvil] one which hits, hits, hard heights. from heaven when when night bends: eleven:eleven. makes the mark [not quite] right here, this is not quite right here. "here" she says, "love, i am but a bird, & now winter is near."