Cosmos

Does it feel eyes focus
On a foggy night,
Corona close around the moon,
Dew drip like clockwork
Under eaves, what I hear,
See, what I believe
Beside this house in
Mist and night and outward,
Ever, where gravity and light
Travel and galactic dawns
Subtend the end of time?
A machine of echoes:
Immensities turn
On irreducibles.
In this coldness, haven,
Crucible, all parts fit
And it knows me.
I am made of it.

Sundial

Ant on an
Analemma gnomon
Climbs a code
Across light,
Across seasons
When color reclaims
This old gray road.
It too may
Overlay itself for
All I know.
Things come, go.
Things do.
New lives enter.
I like winter,
Don't you?

On A Bridge

I am amazed at
What things mean.
Devices, by which
The impossible is
Seen, surround the soul.
What is secret when
Wind, rattling in reeds,
Repeats what is
Whispered in a hole?