I know what lady bugs inhabit and I know the rabbit
hole deeper down, and racket that doesn’t make
sense­—and bracken, just a word hanging over a pond.
You can say all you want about bracken but the point
is the past, albeit even that doesn’t matter, a point being
next to nothing, indivisible; but what I want to talk
about is that rabbit and the lady bug because they’re real,
in fact, both were in my scatter-shot backyard today
but after the gate closed and clouds left they had
a fact to face too. Let them say it themselves; as for me
I’ve been there and come around, back again and again:
same pond, same distance between you and me
which is the point about the rabbit hole and why it is
appealing and since, as lady bug, I crave your feelings.