From childhood
a still image of a blackboard
above which my head is hovering
is moving now
I had dandruff
fingers running at full speed through my hair
all the hounds of a lazy afternoon
with nothing to do after me
(had you passed then
by the yard and the cherry tree
and seen it
you might have thought
strange)
it was falling like volcanic ash
dusting the blackboard
still sifting
a slow granular veil
the little heretic watched
a cosmos taking shape
right there and right then
specks gathering
others drifting apart
something rippling through
and in one of those dots
life erupting
Today
I will admit
creation
takes more than that
everything does.