Because we moved together
and for that time, however small,
worked at being one:
a thread into another was spun.
We held on ‘til we lost ourselves,
and couldn’t see,
when we came to,
a silken strand of spider’s web
was somehow sewn between.
As the link of tide to moon and sea
or a nail ‘twixt hammer and wood;
we yield to forces
not our own
and are altered in return.
Surely,
the nail can be removed
but the difference of a hole remains.
The moon darkens down to new
but the tide reminds us
something's changed
