My reflection on the window’s glass
is a shadow stalking in the grass,
cracks and crevices in certainty
letting something out or something in.  

Monkish monkey riding on my back,
spooky bird nesting in my throat,
thoughtless sloth that sits between my eyes,
all play in the tree that blooms as me,  

or they’re just reflections in the glass,
shadows that patrol the predawn grass,
cracks and crevices in certainty
letting something out or something in.  

Life is tainted with anxiety –
I can’t see what’s me with certainty