Thursday, October 12, 2023


There's only one moment
amid the sun's 
assent each morning 

when everything visible 
briefly shifts 

from inscrutable and dim 
to explicitly 

when the backlit 
bricks of old, sharp-
angled buildings 

blaze to relief in 
the quickening temperatures

and the recondite 
flight paths 
of a few sparrows' shadows

snap, in mid-air, 
to Euclidean circles

as, measured and lucid, 
a clean, far-off 
bell clangs 

and cracks, 
in the instant, that 
ambiguous illusion 

that I 
and those distant rows 
of smooth, ruddy buildings, 

and those birds, 
in their legible, 
uncomplicated flight

had ever 
been anything 

more than 
just this together: 

and so hungry 

for our share
of the light.