Together

With unequivocal geometry, the sun

rises golden, tempts today on earth’s rim

and, by chance, we also see a silver moon

withstand an early wash of light.

 

Poets, of course, know it could be two faces

or an asymmetrical dumb-bell, levers

on a pivotal now

or Cyclops’ eyeing out from rounded caves.

 

We walk along after February snow,

kick drifts forwards and backwards, roll flakes into

unique snowballs

and chuck them at each other with intent

 

when, in mid air, two snowballs stop, hover;

pupils dilate and finally – finally - we know nothing.