Counter Evolution

Always a sap when I come across
a broken blue egg
on the sidewalk
beneath the trees
that edge the golf course
where I walk spring mornings,
earlier in summer before
the oppressive cocoon of heat.

Sticky dollop of yellow,
red vein, the inner white lining
of the shell, bright
as a bow tie —
not wind, not rain,
no random cold front
has brought this capsule down.

I know. I know.

Pushed out
of the twiggy mouth
for a reason: that the other one

may grow strong.
The terrible code

written cell-deep
we all struggle
to contain —

it’s a wonder any of us
pulls over
when the ambulance
needs getting through.