Joy oscillates to sorrow as a dolphin
breathes one element to move in another,

as a butterfly eats the plant’s green solids
when it crawls, the nectar when it’s winged.

Sorrow fathoms glory as a tree’s roots
curl irregular in shape and thickness,

unsteadying the outline of its trunk.
Glory rouses joy the way a mystery

comes close to shadow, or a shoulder
leads the knee from ground to space

where curvature saddles the known universe.
Joy announces sorrow in the wish to live

in many countries, turn all corners,
marvel at the streets, and wash them.

Sorrow ambers glory inside shabby rental houses,
motes of sunlight, pollen, shoes well broken in.

Notre Dame Review 52 (2021)