Between omens, between trees,
A sparse body of light and foliage
Floats down.
It lands in the water
Where reflections are born.
Where the double world
Acts out its identical pageantry
In reverse.
In that pool the leaf
Is coming to the surface
Of a glass sky.
This is where the worlds touch.
When I bend over to scoop it up
A single electron passes from my fingers.
Across the border, my heart
Doesn’t beat. Life there is measured
Only in pauses. An incredible stillness.
When someone in the mirror dies
Cardiologists suddenly hear
The sound of distant rainstorms
Vibrato in their bones.

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