a ghost, a silver fish and a dozen witnesses positioned behind glare resistant glass

a mourning dove huddles an iced branch, hunched

as an undertaker in frozen rain

the starkest moon creeps early morning; its white belly sliced and filleted;

shimmies a dance across hardwood

his shirt's long sleeves
flop into coffee, drip past her fingertips into dish water

today i will ask

and he will answer

bedlam exists in the resonant clamor of pots and pans
in the precision of scoop and measure, in the dour expression of sunrise,

throwing test light into eyes

m

.