A newish poem, with slight revisions since some saw it in workshop. Cuts, a few new line breaks.
Inspired somewhat by Wallace Stevens and his "priest of the invisible" quote. Still playing with a title-- originally it was "The Circle Game" until I realized I ripped it off from Margaret Atwood.
The Circle Makers
I am drawing circles around
what cannot be drawn—tighter
& tighter, until only a thin line
defines the unknown.
& I have been squatting at the edge
of each, attempting to sound
gray—never to strike firm earth but
plumbing depth all the same.
Once, I saw someone drawing circles
wider than I imagined possible—so wide
they encompassed themselves. In the shallows,
they were on their bellies, drowning in what
they refused to know.