—And the earth was still baffled by the small spaces,
especially in spring
when people admired its growth from great heights.
The earth was baffled by the tiny gaps
such as those between minutes.
In those places of yearning,
as in the emptiness between
a child’s back teeth, it was trying to decide
if there should be any later.
If so how much later.
Not even wild cypresses by the bay
move firmly enough to satisfy the small spaces.
The moon swells, and does its part. Purple vetch
and smart lupine
combine to think it through, too many
get ready and a few die daily to fill the spaces—
stem after short stem—
though the earth tried to hold each one of them upright,
saying don’t imagine don’t imagine
there has been another like you—
for my mother