across my porch

a formless remorse floods in...

i unwind each count
all the way down to one
and find
an unending procession of ants
across my porch
on some timeless mission
this morning.

*****

one

indivisible,
though as if
divided in beings (Gita)

*****

voices

in the resounding emptiness of my skull,
i hear voices,
like marbles
dropped into a copper vessel.

*****