Where you come from
    I’ll never know--somewhere deep,
    somewhere never still.

    I see in you a reflection
    of the moon, slimming and growing
    like a calm wind I have chosen

    to spend my days with
    under the sun, sparkling against
    your planes that juxtapose.

    How can one help but be
    entertained, mesmerized by gushings
    which fall on themselves

    rumbling at our toes, 
    then rise, mysterious, toward
    shadows that glint?

    I have visited this life
    so long I’m a resident: I bring food
    for the pigeons who gather.

    Everyone bathes here, even
    dogs and leashes stretching out,
    babies, the teenagers who never care.

    This much I know:
    Before your arc I can sit
    and watch forever. 

                                                                                --David Radavich



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