The boy began searching the cypress tree and found nothing
so his audience asked whether he’d discovered how
the bald head of the cypress bows like an elderly lover
in the waning moments of winter
or how its leaves once turned as flat dials beneath the sun
In the waning moments of winter
the boy said I have discovered only
the chipped map
of the lake which is dark
and flat as it is in winter A lake is a dial said the audience
when it is turned back the clock of silt gears against the hands of the
cypress
bedded down as near to water as they’re able
though they do not attempt to tell time
or to drink the boy said
So why do they take to the water
the boy said is it to bow down like a lover to imagine
drinking from the spring running softly to the sea before it flattens
beneath the cold fact of the moon in winter
the audience said the moon brings you to your feet
so you stand above the sea
like a cypress it brings you to your feet
the boy said so you walk
and you must turn you must
turn as the horizon
never turns it reappears
