Open the day to the part where a clear drink sours or a dream brings you the head of your enemy. Morning shrouds itself in a haze you will spend hours carefully unwrapping. A hare steps into a circle of dirt; and there is no trap hidden between lettuces and marigolds. Clouds skitter as if in a time-lapse photograph over every place that had a thousand vines, every land that poured forth abundant milk and honey.