Across wet glass we rub our noses
To paint a picture that presupposes
Like confused footsteps that reach
Across some worn and weathered beach.
Words that fix you, find you,
Words that bind you, blind you,
Words that lead you to a trance
Or spin you with some sacred dance,
Before your fingers can perturb
The petals of a rosebud undisturbed.
Within the jar the question lingers
As we count with broken fingers.
A mermaid sings in a distant sea.
Like stars she cannot be seen directly,
Etched in moon glow beyond all proof
Like some last Olympian, proud, aloof.