Last night our house settled deep
into swells burnished by moonlight
Our sleep was the sleep of mollusks
I’m walking sidewalks imprinted
with years, hands, and animal tracks
The concrete ages like coral torn from the sea
A red day-lily blossom floats in
grassy leaves browning toward winter
Rose petals fold back into hips
One half-mile below the floor of the Pacific
people detonated another atomic bomb
At the surface, the water foamed for hours