I am sitting on a park bench
with a pool of
sunlight almost on my lap;
a cosmos of flies,
galaxies in Brownian motion,
fills it.
I am looking into a park
after midnight;
moths flitting
beneath an unseen lamp
are sparks streaking
from invisibility to invisibility.
I am lazing by a stream;
the sun,
reflected in
innumerable scintillations,
has ordered the
universe
to pulse beside my
sleeve.
