A Heedlessness in Rhythm
The day does not repeat me as scar lights
When it comes round. I happen to be there.
That’s all. I’m not repeated in star lights
Or planet lights in evening. There’s no pair
Of Mars and Venus speaking me to sky,
Horizon’s sky or heaven. I’m just here
Below these three, unbidden. They don’t eye
Me towards infinity. I am not a sphere
Like these so I am not repeated for
Their purposes. I linger. That is all.
If I were diamond ore, they would not bore
For me. Like me, they hold you in their thrall.
Our wars and loves, samsara-like, come round
Again and we are wound up–then unwound.