Did the round moon over the rooftops
make me giddy with unasked-for joy,
but then did the curved neck
of a wading bird insert
its uncalled for punctuation?
Did a wind from the sea bring
a welcome whiff of salt, and just
as I rounded the corner, did I smell
what it’s like when deep work
is done on the sewers?
Did I come to the counter to pay
with a crisp new bill and leave
with a handful of change in dull
looking copper? Did I take
the sweet cream out of the cooler
and forget it would sour in the heat?
Did I think that the string
of the instrument broke because
it refused to sing for me? When
will I learn it is not in the nature
of things to be one way or another
to our liking? When a pall comes
over the world at sundown, I should not
ask if I will ever be happy again.
In response to Via Negativa: Time.