Lichen

It is mostly cool and grey

these mornings when I am not at all steady

and thought flips in my gut, a panicked fish.

Clumsy moth, dusting.

Running, blue static, through synapses.

a slowly closing fist.

Lichen-clever, under every little thing.

I am shucked, quivering, briny.

I am mostly cool and grey,

these mornings that are not at all steady.