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.