Day had opened without dangerous need,
day had opened with things left alone and
little agendas, all the little agendas, silenced
like the cricket’s deep felt never
or the bee’s colony collapse disorder.
You were so close to your skin,
O Carapace of Non-Allowance,
O Construct of Beautiful Weakness–
where things are left alone
anything can happen, the anything, say,
of not sinking (which is traveling).
What did you do?
What did you do but look wonderingly
at the caught.