March 21, 2013 (I was 68)
At an eddy of the Merced River in Yosemite
creations of light occupy the river bottom
but they are not bright they are darknesses
that run along the illuminated stones
Squiggles of parallel worm squirms
move shoreward or spin toward center stream
across a bed where no ripples go
Water beetle forms skate on stones where no bug treads
Round black holes swell and disappear
as perhaps they do in space
Projected shadows of surface whirlpools
as are the other illusions
silhouettes of nearly invisible movement on its skin
when one great element touches another
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