Monday’s Muse

Everything (from the collection: uncomfortable ecologies)
~ Elizabeth Joy Levinson

The white fingers
of the sycamores
reach out
against the cerulean sky,
the moon white and translucent,

Am I white and reaching and translucent?

I am white and reaching and translucent.
I am a killing frost at dawn
or an ice storm

I am trying
to hold everything
at once.