At Noon

When the sadness comes
its shadow can’t be found,
not that you’d know to look
for it, not that it could
find you when nothing’s
behind things but
their own iterations,
joy having gone where
all shadows go at noon.


Even When

The boat sits on a bar of light
brighter than the eye can bear
a bright hole in the world when
you surface, another shadow
on the water from that other
world below with its eternal sway
where your creatures are always
hunting, even when you sail away.