“It is not down in any map; true places never are.”
– Herman Melville (Moby-Dick)
Lost and found in a theater
Tortoise had worn hands
in candlelight
Children were eating cake
before jumping from their chairs
To see the three layers
of soft voices melting
in a glass
Running around the room
An opera air got livelier
and a mother talking to
her mother
happier
Skies are grey
but there are flowers in jars
Hoping to see you as crumbs
or stars – it’s fine with me
In our future
chameleonian times 