All day today half
-heard noises, like

a baby mobile, or was that
a cat? Don’t you hear

the thing, calling?
Or am I too attuned

to the periphery,
lines of demarcation,

too glib the response,
quick as a field of grass

in spring,
Whitman said tongues,

no, blades–
but I’m not green,

can count the seconds
before a thunder clap,

and if I were to really ask–
easier to shut

the cold thing out,
to not observe it hatch,

wait for some later day, it’s only May, and this night is so otherwise tender