A whole galaxy may be squished
into the tuft of a pussy willow
and I’d never know the swaying reeds
were a communication from beyond.
When imagining great things, it’s so often
bridges or battles or cathedrals or
delicate mastery of limbs or rhymes
or it may be a brain larger than a whale’s eye.
I can’t decide how big the holes should be
because I haven’t narrowed down
what I should be capturing.