I Don’t Know What It Is

I don’t know what it is
about the vertical line
of the cat’s eye
how the world shrinks

into the frozen still-life
between running and readiness
breath fierce and calm
like sister and brother

What is it I don’t know
the beginning of the world
or was it only this morning
when the wind stopped

clouds forgot their way
the neighbors’ dogs
telling them what for
and the moon not full

Don’t I know this song
no tell-tale repetition
or give-away rhyme
the dance a hesitation

the voice sticks in the flute
eyelashes open and close
their mandolin curtains
rapidly or not at all

the blood sings down
narrow cliff-hanging
paths and trails
making up stories

for anything that moves
bamboo leaf fluttering
spider tight-rope walking
honey bee struggling

Is it what I don’t know
that keeps me here
my fingertips hovering
over the keyboard

my tongue pushing
against the backs
of my patiently waiting
rows of teeth

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The Net Thrower