Your Enterprise

Iron turns a torrent red,

Said the last line of a text,

Closing with a sudden clench.

You can’t let it go, can you?

It’s the rhythm of the phrase

That clutched you in sound effects,

Not its sense. Iron rusts red,

And rust will redden water,

Okay. It was the hammer

Of the line that made it more

Than self-evident, tempted

Your sense it meant more than sense.

Meaning comes from attention.

Whatever draws attention

Feels already meaningful,

Although meaning has to be

Built—doesn’t have to be true,

Of course. It has to be built.

When something catches your mind

Like that poet’s final line,

You tilt to your enterprise.