there is a brother hidden from the world, & 
there is a brother diffused throughout the world. 

there is a sun broken like a yolk left to run, & 
there is a sky bright as the split eggshell. 

there is the ground beneath us, & 
there is the ground that holds us after we are not us but our simple bodies. 

there are the cranes gliding like arrows through the sky, & 
there are the cranes weaving their sharp bodies into roads. 

there are the thirty four dead creatures found on the roads leading from one place to another, & 
there are the seventy four dead creatures found on the roads leading from another place to the first. 

there are roads unfolding in the space these creatures once claimed without needing to claim, &
there are the metal cages hurtling down these roads, incapable or unwilling to save what is in the way.

there is the thing called our own, & 
there is the thing we can never name our own. 

there is the thing called home, & 
there is the feeling of never belonging. 

two of everything in sight & 
no matching pairs. 

two of everything in need & 
no need to be matched. 

there is beauty everywhere we look, & 
there is no we to look from. 

there is the end of the beginning, & 
the beginning of the end & 

somehow we are stuck in the ever-between, 
unable to find our way out. 

there is the sky & 
there is everything beneath the sky. 

there is the sky & 
everything above & outside the sky. 

there is the thing named atmosphere & the thing named space & then 
there are the many things we call atmosphere & space. 

there is the water & 
there is the current pulling the water. 

there is the current & 
there is the moon pulling the tide. 

there is the moon & 
there is everything to be said about the moon. 

but it is day & 
though i cannot see it, the sun 

is begging for my attention to be brought 
to the runny yolk left to sizzle in the pan.