Space Poem by Bill Knott

From the trees the leaves came down
until we joined hands with a wand
and that act enabled them
somehow then to reach the ground

where they scuttered round our feet
urging the latter to unite
with a baton as if that act
together with the hands can clasp

a dowsing-stick cut from the same
branch from which we launched
converging on gravity's purge-point

at which point we merged to remove
all consonants from our star-maps.
The infinite consists of vowels alone.