….every moment with everything,
bottomless, like a waterfall from
every direction coming into mind
instantaneously: the tenement stairs,
cherry trees in blossom,
the last line of a message,
when you realize you need
to pull over,
on the lake…sun going down…
full moon rising….
Excelsior, most of it, to
keep what seems important
buffered, underlined against
the void, the truth, the change….
the illusionist’s flutter that makes
the dream seem real.
