I sing spare
in present time
with gaps
and leaps of knowing

pin clean sheets
on a line
high enough
no cloth need touch
the earth

run between shapes
the wind takes
an animating breath
imagined waves
almost/already dry

Some months since
my sight goes dim
come evening—
no parsing print
close-held.
Small surprise then
down the lane at dusk
I cross abrupt
a butterfly,
unexpected velvet dark
in angles
toward my face,
soft-catch
in my hair
a moment more
then disappeared
and I’m new
aware—o!
a common microbat

No world absolute
but we let the wild wood undisturbed
grow close
and the leaves
shifting green
throw gaps of sky
inside—we swim even now
in filtered light,
tree reflections
on your face,
leaf-shallows on the dinner plates.