In the still pond
the dark widening pupil
and mirror’s regret

in the shadow
and flicker beyond
the rustle of leaves

in the shudder before sleep
first light
and dream’s retreat

in the space between waves
and the latch’s click
your footsteps diminish

in the distance drawn near
the empty chair
and the ladle laid on its side

for the story between
the impulse and the act
for whatever cannot be taken back.