Wednesday, April 22, 2020


Translucent little fish egg
Of a moon just at sunset
“A miracle he had lived?”

No, he was ordinary,
But wait, yes, yes, he wasn’t
A new moon not a fish egg—

He had imaginal discs
From the beginning he did
In his intermingled grace

The blurred soup of his moments
Made of what he used to be
Translucence now the substance

Of that ever-present past
This moon in fact his cocoon
Phases rephrasing the skies—

Bell’s worry isn’t idle
When measurements disagree
The noon bell drowned in a moon

The recluse flowing away
To set behind green jade peaks—
Which events were determined

And which events were chancy?
Then it was a miracle
He had lived because he changed

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