Confirmation Bias

How is your name
everywhere in countries
where it is not in use?
Is it pattern recognition?
Run amok for what?

Numerology looms,
bringing home
one sharp calendar coincidence
after another.
Tendrils projected
dangle ungathered
from windows over sidewalks.
Maybe the gut gnaw
I thought I was alchemizing
into some shared gold of longing,
is nobody’s but mine.

Maybe to you,
finally buoyant
in unfolding seas
engaged with swells and swoops,
it’s just the distant presence
of a chilly coastal city -
its soundless shimmers
smeared through drizzle
raked by gales
off backs of waves

Here on the shore,
near-object astronomy
conspires with meteorology.
When corners are rounded,
and black fronds are lowered,
unbinding moon-drip
from silhouette branches,
just then,
the hoot-winds tune up,
and clouds are helmed clear
of the undeniable disc.

These may not be portents,
the sky may not watch me.
It might just be me here,
scanning for signal
in wondrous noise.
This creaking temple
may sway on its stilts,
but it is my place of dwelling,
and its windows the only windows
out to the humming sea