Cross-Examination
Cameron Morse
Garden mums unpack parcels of yellow
petals, opening jaundiced eyeballs
on a mid-September morning. Southwestern
wind rummages through the oak leaves
for a lost object, the daystar, perhaps,
smothered in oak leaves, or the wayward
cricket heard chirping in the furnace room
while we tossed in bed. In the cross-examination
of sunrise, blurred shadows and soft light,
it’s impossible to locate the original source
of any testimony, no matter how long one sits
and examines the evidence of the senses.