CONFLUENCE

A dead dog on the pavement,

a pigeon sleeping on a sill

inform infinite aspects of life’s mystery,

for in silence they speak,

in defeaning glory,

of the regretless lighting of the wick of meaning

by fear, by beauty,

as if by the firmest hand,

the pair of the trembling one

tenderly outlining the solemnity

of our perpetual defeat

by the unjustifiable working of things.