A Handful of Counter Spells~Gibson Fay-LeBlanc
May the various gods inside our machines
release our windowless eyes so we might see:
a Blue Jay’s black pinpricks, cocked and watching
from inside a nearly leafless bush;
the double secret handshake of a small boy
that ends with eating a giant pretend sandwich;
My youngest covers up to his chin, in the dark,
asking for more light to temper the deep night;
Even the sun-windowed tips of grass-
a fieldfull of individual wavering blades-
and the universe inside each mirroring light
across the still-calm cove of the moon-driven sea/
Remember how to get quiet and find
the window inside the window inside the window.