my indecision is rooted in
a dusty window in the basement of
the house on richard's lake road

where dust made the pane
each side a separate cosmos
and in between, incarnation

the residue of life clinging to lucidity
letting light pass through
its fossil poetry

making true discarded pots
and a leather bag
as the greens and flowers outside

beneath the sun sill factual concrete
framing the common descent
of each speck into thoughts

truth of beauty in the unknown
grows in me like  an orchid
inside the goldenrod light