Let me think, for
Heaven's sake, or
Make glochidiate
Gestures suggestive
Of thought --I ought
To know... it is...
It is round.
I found it in the
Photo bag among
Sunset-gloaming rags,
Rainbowing rings and
An odd passion for
Not knowing things.
Someone knows.
She knows, not I --
Lens shade or gobo
Built to cast clouds
Upon the sky.
I don't know, and yet
Turn ideas enbrochette--
What steams remains dense--
And lapse into
Alert silence.
