catapult magazine

After This

by Z.G. Tomaszewski

            Let me melt into the ever-changing water,
            fresh flowing in the always-now of eternity
or, that little fish in flux, who sees the world as heavens’ elusive reflection;
I would be the gray crayfish coming out from under the rock,
            leaving the dark — hermit no more feeding on the shadows of ambivalent algae
and, oh — to be the leaf floating, thoughts rollicking on a rapid
            on the streaming mirror of marvel —
following flow, not fighting the current,
accepting the sliding truth.