Hello.
Solicitations and grief
from the pharaohs who stole our horses.
Hi, in other words, from my smallish hands.
Hello out there, without in any way
offering to help.
The wind has died.
Au revoir, also, from the soldiers
caught late last night.
After today we’ll have run out of swans.
After today, who’ll remember who called
to say they were coming but never arrived?
Hello, from the water used to put out the fire.
Hello to the rat ‘s breast impaled on a rake.
Hello, ants, here’s a bucket of smote.
Now go, wash your hair in the sea.
“Hello,” I say, but then stop,
embarrassed,
for I see that you’re with a priest.
