• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 11
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Man Netting Bugs on the Bank

In hindsight,
I thought it only
butterflies he was after,

but now remember
he gladly took
all he could catch

in his condition—
profound as it seemed—
and Zen with the mission

of filling his net
with whatever
he could get

be it butterfly,
or moth,
or air

as I stared
across a shore
in all my dumb wisdom

mad that no nibble
tugged at the end of my line
to fill my creel that night,

so saw the hours wasted,
and because I did,
was right.