I want to tell you something about the sky,
something you can’t have already known.
When last I was at the beach I watched
an ant dragging itself, scaling the sides
of a divot then tumbling, dizzyingly, down.
When was I born? In this moment
I try to smooth the sand without
burying the ant while it climbs.
I don’t want to reduce anything to knowability.
Lying here on my back,
look, the whole world’s so blue.
When I leave it behind
to climb the dunes to the road, my legs ache & wobble.
Was this life? Sand, castle & grave.