Saturday, May 20

5.

In the back room where a ray of light
has penetrated the vine-covered window
the green curtain that parts
onto the circular garden
you dip your hands into a basin of water
and they blur away
only the lines from your upturned palms remain
floating for an instant
rearranging themselves
a map etched in disappearing ink
to guide you for the rest of your life
or until you leave this address
whichever comes first

-- Nicholas Christopher, from "14 rue Serpentine"