The easy part is the digging –
snowsilver spade slicing steamsoil.
Dirt hardly parts – but sighs!
Eucharine breath, epicene oil.
The lissome lisp of shovel slipped
into winesoftened silt.
The easy part is the digging –
straight-grained shaft stung
by stone, bonequiver knock
on bone and out the crown
emptied unto Heaven
with every chuck and throw.
The easy part is the digging –
brute-sunk shovel in soil.
Psalm-sung singing of sinew.
Instrument to sentiment.
Lie-less rhythm without end.
Monument to sediment.
Lie-less rhythm without end
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Andy Havens 
I love the way this poem sounds. And you know that when you titled the poem. But I have to admit, I had to look up Apheresis. This is a wonderful poem.
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I had to look it up, too. It was an accident. I can’t remember which word I was looking up, but apheresis was in a list of synonyms for it. I had to have it, right away.
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That’s awesome. Glad chance worked in your favor. Again, great poem.
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