A hospital bed

A hospital bed, starched and
bleached white
and an astronaut's visor
tinted with gold
thinly bear hot breath,
sweat and impermanence
against the infinite.

Hold and release

A shutter clicks, hold--
rubber and aluminum wane.
Hot headlight then brake light filaments
drip like mercury, molded
by weightless sled tracks.

Night and man's choice of illumination,
a bank's horizontal slats
trap yellow tongues within and
flickering neon storefronts
glint of tetra scales--and release.

I searched

I searched for you, but you were naked
below your clothes.

And under your skin were bones and they held
organs among them.

I could not find you there.

I searched for Him in grass and stone,
in paint and story, in novel and film.
I found Him there.

And there, with Him,
I found you.