EYES IN ASPENS
The path ascends itself.
In the grown dusk, the light is not yet bound
to make an original vault; it does not emerge
from corners by accident.
You are calm. Lightning somehow lasted. We were calm,
it foreshortened viewers at the lake. The patterns
hold others in.
The sun will return with extra data, dear moment, soon.
Come into the split moonbeam
which can match your mind
to the meanings they wanted. Come
to the compounds that will ignite the figure 8 over the golden
rod, the gravel ghost.
The rocks left their bunting; three spiders drop
down: Clotho, Atropos, the third mythically forgotten.
We have replaced the garden with dew
rooms;
the river lily has been folded without objection.
You felt safe because horizon lightning made H or Z or N.
Follow us into the struck minerals,
a swallow. In a meadow
different temperatures are asked to remain what we are
wearing;
when you finally saw the lace-maker's dress, it was
precise and limitless.
(originally published in Volt )