The Thousand Thistle Seeds

Ten years ago, I followed a lizard
Through a grassy, ruined amphitheater,
Quick as quicksilver,
But green, not silver.
The lizard darted,

Skimmed, froze,
Shinnied, insinuated like flame,
A pinpoint of pulse and flash.
The lizard knew
The Etruscan wall's cracks,

The downspouts,
The stone that blunts the plow,
The mortar's and stucco's flaws.
The lizard dwelt in a present
That extends, elongates, thins

Into a filament of consumed air.
I followed the lizard
From brick chink to olive grove,
Poppies to straw,
To sand and loam.

I knew, for a moment, the balance
Between the intimate and the infinite,
A word and what it reckons.
The sun on the hilltop
Flared upon the thousand thistle seeds,

The thousand virtues,
The thousand minerals,
The thousandth of a second
It takes the lizard to taste the moment
And change course.

by Eric Pankey • from The Pear As One Example: New & Selected Poems, 1984-2008 • Ausable Press