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72 ROCK CREEK, PRE-DAWN Ineluctable these reflections of the stars in the creek, mid-day, when the radiance that’s said to take seven years to arrive is welcomed prematurely, is in time for aperitifs. The darting white fish boldly rise, mistaking stars for mayflies, swarm & frenzy. I have seen you in various stages of undress, I’m chanting, when the shooting star strikes across the lake like a match. & that is when it happens: my desire tears through the surface of each posthistoric sea, its vast mouth an empty stairwell, dark and deep, in which you, poised in white lab coat, cradle a jar overflowing, storm of blue bees. Eternal specimen of the eyes I have for you. ...

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