Of Orbs, Opening

Colored only by embossment, a slight shift
in texture, smooth to ripple, center page

Let us show all pity and tenderness
to those who laugh, wrote Proust

In the rear view mirror, a flush, ascending
Straight ahead, a tight electric red
directly beneath the barely discernable moon

Sputter of glitter smother
Mosaic rubble tumbles
from the blown open apse

You see, I had to run for my life early,
and train myself to rarely glance back

Red, in the movie, stared from the bench
at the bare red bulb above the closed door

cicadas  cicadas  cicadas  cicadas

Like a retriever pointing at Virginia's river,
we drew back to that place, never mentioning
the dried rat dung on the hot upper level boards.