Passing Waves

The snakes have gone. They leave a kind of gnawing that is un-snakelike

yet hums in the periphery. Like a buzz, like an absence. Light makes like

the calming bulb or the easing sun. Have you seen it? It passed by. It seems

the future is easing bulls, calming sons, casting lots. Why is it still there?

Is it the Eastern Star mounting? Is it the dawning of the old light, or who knew?

Did I know it then: those flashes, the pulsing, the evening setting? Who knew?

How is it possible to know without knowledge? The light transmits, the false light

sits somewhere low, casting high, easing lots, placing ties. The rain brings,

the sky rings, the sun is out of place yet the moon has been shifting. It’s red

glow seams together the changes. The Changes come yet pass, the evening sum

won’t last. I know its approach and I greet it heartily. Do you? Do you see the sun?

Have you seen it? It passes. It seems alight, new, how could it? Its seams. Passing waves.