WORMHOLE

Convinced our glass doors hold

The secret to another world,

A nosy robin today hurled 

Herself against them, sold

 

On something more than need,

On a deeper and exacting quest,

Our see-through palimpsest

Offering all who dare the seed

 

Of a waving strange expanse,

Collapsed by light to melting trees,

Glowing flowered filigrees

Of coral scraps and celing fans,

 

A counterpane where, without words,

We go about our quantum chores

Behind the shiny oscilating doors

To the jealousy of birds.

 

August 15th, 2003

Kailua