“In coming to what seems most intimately one’s own, one comes upon what is not self- owned.” Desmond, Intimate Universal, 74..

Rain tapping my hood,

first sign of the hurricane.

I watch the swans float

in the salt grass and

taller grasses, brown and gold.

What am I that I

find peace as it grows

dark and the rain drops thicken?

The swans, water, wind

compose the world now

where I’m a witness to the

only self I own.