the knot is simultaneously contained within the bird that sits upon the wire

seemingly unmoving, above its necklace of arteries, the major roadways of

its memory lying like strands against the shore – – echoes – – waves as the

child said – – they keep moving out from the point — like in a circle – –

these waves are waves and undulate against the air, all those major arteries,

i spoke of, three, their names necessarily change, but the point is this – that

bird on wire, that knot, sits there, day after day arms outstretched, thrum, hum,

thinking, thought, or not.

in the dark that knot

is light

disc

at sunrise

a cardinal landed on the western plum

a watch rested around my pulse

face : between speaking and saying

scarlet in the plumb

– or maybe next time tawny

knot turned

into seed

developing wings

a blue jay lands on the tulip poplar

the eastern plum is still in bloom

the western plum begins to show color

the hackberry across the street

green beginning, faint, fairly

delicate, what are not yet leaves, two

squirrel nests still exposed above the roofs, well above the roofs,

the tulip poplar which was shaped —

its major branches still cut blunt

surfaces, discs —

the colors, muted, greys, browns, black, quiet

green, what stands out is that pink, white-pink

directly in front of the gaze — purple-plum in the

center behind the tulip-poplar

the plums do not bloom

simultaneously.  the one plum

blooms first; the plum to east

shows color before the plum

to the west which is yet

to blossom

the tree cut down

erased concentric

circles           later

two ears

a bird landed

on a line

inside the heart

made note

on my fifty-ninth birthday i sat down

and went to india

the sky was gray

the sea was gray

the shores were tributaries

a river cut through

the heart of the sea

a star flew across the ocean

past goa

its northern reaches possibilties