Still Life

Observe the middle globes of Newton’s cradle, and you will see a living stillness

Observe a ringing bell still the same

The sky, the clouds, the mountain, the plain

Behold, swallow, become

As she will do, is doing, has done

With my body

I think about the peace of her stillness

I think about becoming a brush of blue sky or

A dabble of green vista or

Perhaps a dot of black bird

Still

I will only ever be

A piece of her harmony