in a tin box at the edge of swamps shivering lies
a baby bird, the discovery of ultraviolet,
a tiny telescope, the foil wings
the small molten heart, a world reborn in triangles

liquid ship taking off into radio,
cancers of the sun picnic
bench unsteady, three mammals kissing
onward moss ground, warped gravity

twig dousing secret water
from the mouth of a guitar, magnet hearts
springing auto gears over monkey bars and mounds of green
to the sunrise rust of long abandoned swingset,
moments scarred where moons pick off their planets,

in a tin box at the edge we are shivering
in a particle cluster
of many shattered cores, shrunk galactic
reassembled, waterfalls unwounded on many blades,
the hidden joints of fresh made babies