A crosswind, the Norway’s leaves flash
like sunfish in a man-made pond.
Still waiting for someone to ask
whether I believe in God.
Maple keys footnote the ground.
As a metaphor maker I’m qualified
to point out the asterisks.
A quantum resonance
separates the perfect day
from the perfect day for a funeral.
A question of which question, which universe
witch principal.
I pray the priest at her deathbed
took a moment, fluffed the pillows.
Weeks later four cawing crows
flush a hawk from the now-bare tree
with something unlike fear.
Because because because because because.
This appeared in the October 2016 issue.
Matthew Tierney won the 2013 Trillium Book Award for Poetry for his book Probably Inevitable.
