Metaphysics of the Salt Marsh
Miriam Sagan

Flux as tide rises
Covering a few more inches
Of cattails
Return of the red-tailed hawk, white egret
How beautiful on a winter’s afternoon
Even the crisp outline of factories
Towers, scaffolding, tanks
Spheres, squares, triangles, circles
Which are—permanent?

Or a Greek philosopher
Reclining propped on one arm;
The philosophy teacher erases the white board
With her wrist;
The word “agape”
In hierarchy with eros.

The tea house woman
Told the monk
Show me this “self” that is hungry
And I’ll give you cakes.

Sometimes it is so still
Each reed casts a reflection
The mathematics of this cold light.


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