broke in a single night, cock-crow finding him marooned
in a wreckage of denial. Yet if you could call
together all the coloured crystals of the east wall’s
stained glass window — most benign form of rock, stone’s thinnest shadow,
now shattered to stardust — you would see your life’s and this moment’s discoveries lightly prefigured
in the image of another storm-tossed man whose feet
tested earth’s rocky sediment and found it seafoam,
walking on water as you do now, as we all do.
