Firstly, it is everlasting. Set in stone. A priori.
Second, though obvious to all, it is put to language by one consumed by one’s own knowledge.
It is music & it is slow & slowly into us all as it surrounds & inhabits.
The birds bathe in the birdbath beneath my window throughout the day.
Any two set points of demarcation can be paired by a single line.
One chair in the yard has been pulled from the table made of gray metal.
My sight is a straight line from my mind to the chair, emitted & reflected.
I would prefer not to follow the first word with another word.
But there is a need for words.
Lastly, there is a need for words.
As the hemorrhaged light of the afternoon fills my being,
the birds through the yard are innately demonstrating a physics unknown to our bodies.
Shannon Tate Jonas Poetry 