Drowser, cross your eyes to
a window seen in dozens,
pictures leant all on
others, or else in
a dishful of water. Eyes,
spatter the light, solid tree
dash to branches.
Sleep, and read through crossed lashes...
Read figures sketched in wild branches,
ruled by stray lines to the vanishing point...
sly gargantuas left these marks,
tracks of peregrinations.
—Here, grackles tour, and juncos
dreamily call to gloss the signs.
-2005
