December 6, 2010

In Mono’s
unruffled bowl
mirror to russet mountain and clumpy cloud
three stepping-stone islands
lead the eye left to centre
and the hills close round
in striations
misty grey
defying definition
like the first moment of time.

Who would suspect beneath that blue
soup teems with life
tiny alien
arsenic-loving life
white beans of bacteria
DNA perfectly other
an understudy you might say
waiting in the wings
for us to lose the plot.