Late Sunlight

only nothing is infinite
we are finite everything is
or wouldn't actually exist
what begins must end
that's the necessary deal

and still I feel this moment
peeling an orange is forever
suspended in late sunlight
short but infinite within
limits that count for nothing

Middle-Sized

when I cut the poem
I am not renouncing
the thought only the
attempt to express it
or it may be trivial
fond as I am of how
I offered it in words
most thoughts small
to fit our condition
middle-sized animals
we can imagine large