Robin Rosen Chang

On My Mind

Not things that float—moon, jellyfish, dust in sunbeam, skins of ice, skim on warm milk, wafts
of cilantro, sound of o inside your mouth, but things that curl—sheep’s wool, seahorse
                                    tail, double
helix strand, three-banded
                              armadillo, toes
                                                    in mud, your    
                                                                        breath on cold nights,
and pulse—hummingbird wings, banana leaves  in monsoon rain, high tide, cloverleaf quasars,
echo-
cardiogram of the sun, your hum, and things that intertwine—beet roots, staves & staffs, cursive x’s, our arms
                             and legs, an eternal knot,
sheets at daybreak.