suddenly the sequence coheres around
you and what at first seemed random became
so much more than the depth I could fathom
the moment so profound and obvious
that you almost missed its passing despite
all of the vague insinuations like now
when the soft truth of the day will unfold
like prescient roses to the butterfly’s
probe or the day’s narrator’s causal
bon mot which of course was never quite
casual nor calculated but more
with an eye on hope like a fisherman’s
cast into still water near the willow’s
roots where the sleepy catfish dreams of love.
(August 2012)
