The threshold between one and zero
Blurs–
Blurs– a drift of charge filters through–

The moonlight between knowing
And unknowing, or dusk
And unknowing, or dusk when the mockingbird
Takes up its station in the lime tree, switching
Its song for silence and back.

What I remember comes and goes–
What I remember comes and goes– the stars
Filtering back the years ahead,
Their synapses flickering, rapping out their signals,

A flicker across the woods–
A flicker across the dead wood dead wood—
When it stops, the light falls.

What I know rests here, on this side, the sticks
My daughter lines up, counting one
By one,
By one, between each a lasting darkness.