..after Wallace Stevens
Aquamarine filament slithers between heaven and earth:
we are in good company.
Thin membrane between the real and the super-real
lies like gossamers along the ocean's spine.
Whispery kohl promise--blue-black line
shimmers beneath a heavy sky: we
are who we think we are, after all.
The boundary between days. Inky
sheath separates yes from too tired.
No from perhaps.
Gold presses down on coal, limning
the edges of our world. How we
know one moment from the next.
Thin axis of our longing.