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My very photogenic mother died in a freak accident
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(picnic, lightning) when I was three,
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and, save for a pocket of warmth in the darkest past,
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nothing of her subsists within the hollows and dells of memory,
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over which, if you can still stand my style
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(I am writing under observation), the sun of my infancy had set:
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Okay. So this is a knight's move:
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from traumatic event of the mother's death--
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should be the center of the sentence; it's just dismissed--
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hopped beyond into this stylistic wash, a golden haze.
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And he goes on to describe the sensations of early childhood.
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So, the strategy of the knight's move is to frustrate your expectations,