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,
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.