Over Coffee

If a bough breaks at the treetop
does the cradle still rock?

If a bird falls alone in the forest, does one always want to ask What forest? Can I recall them from the past among the leaves that have fallen? Can I call them one by one, and call them what they are, wherever I can find them? Do they answer me over coffee, asking about their invisible presences? Do they hover over the cup and over the darkness that I put my lips to?

15 June 1974