Moving as a mind moves across a math problem,
Or an eye across a lover’s body,
Or a dragonfly across the sky,
Or history, through wars and bodies,
Or a film from frame to frame,
Or the moods, strangers to each other, 
Or a ferry across a lake all day,
Move with me now, for I need company—

I have this wish to get caught up in something
Precisely unlike a poem, unlike writing
For its straightforwardness, its power
That is not the power of half secrecy
But is, instead, something enormous
And potentially dangerous, and this is all,
I am afraid, will move my mind one inch
Off the small white tee where it sits and waits.

My mind sits on its small white tee and waits
For something like what others experience
When they avert a tragedy, but barely,
And all of life is refocused in that moment,
Even the parts they hated yesterday,
Or, worse than hated, felt merely a blank
Where emotion would be, a blank
Where meaning would be if only they