Like coronary occlusion, it began small,
spiral shell and Sierpinski gasket, a vibration
amongst the strings rippling outward into
rising sea levels, Pacific
hurricane, the exhalation of universes, sublime
and then we were gone.
Love and strings; they go together.
I poured into him my rivers
with their poisons, my plains and valleys
parched; his acrid exhaust burned the air
between us. Fertilizer we fed into tributaries
bloomed algae where it should not have been;
the glaciers of our filial strength
dissolved from below, slipped
beneath 34 degree indifference;
birds lost their way.
Now we return to the beginning.
We go below, realign Fibonacci
series, retune strings, pray
When the first green appears,
luminous leaves, one then one
then two, we will cherish it, clarity
arrived at last with oceanfront property in Sacramento:
in the end there is only life;
in the end there is only life.