proposals for good fortune

I

finally,
time to learn new ways.

this covering—
curled, familiar—
will not hold for long

do not return
[exhale=inhale]

do not grip it so tightly it cuts
[the thread undone flows like a river]

do not keep it all forever
[boxes within boxes]

do not take a photo to prove it
[it settles in the lower back]


II

when I touched it, it was soft,
collapsing, coming apart.

this one shifts —
purple to black,
then blue,
pink,
white.

the roots,
emerging.


III

I saw you set it aside,
on top of the dear ladder.

one day,
I thought of your colours.

when you laughed,
I tried to write them down—
but they slipped through my hands.

I’ve been keeping count—
perhaps a dozen times.


IV

I heard it—
the sound dripping below.

I crossed field after field.
you said I would find the answer there.

clouds mirrored in the river before me.
the water, the daisies,
white and yellow.

I carried in my pocket
a handful
of those smiling things.

in the shade, I found it:
the opening.

I peered inside.

straightening,
arm outstretched,
I threw one in.

it struck the walls,
an echo rippling outward.


V

you asked me to be gentle.

watch—how she thins, how she swells.

yes, I see now—we wane, we return.

and tomorrow, we cast light.