Water drop. Clink of a bottle. Crumb
From yesterday’s guttering candle.
Hieroglyphs of grain in a cup,
Oblong bubble in the loaf
He tears apart. Sooner or later, it all
Adds up: profligate seeds studding
A split fig, infinitude in a jot of jam,
Pyramid in a crystal of salt.
He will put a few olives in a bowl,
Lift a lump of cheese from a barrel
Of brine, discover a spring
In the shadow of Aetna’s crater
Muttering the riddle of one and many,
Substance unchanging, never at rest.
