a bridge made of candles in the sand

      all lost souls shall be known again.
      and be made whole.    again.
      will our word carry this weight?

how many times have my thoughts
this morning already changed themselves?

new pants.   new shirt.   black socks again,
right up to my knees.

here’s one that’s remembering another
thought before.   one that didn’t yet even
imagine the shape of this newer thought.

oatmeal with bananas in a bowl.   even
if I shouldn’t, some sugar, yes.

I thought something different then.
as I do now, something different.   again.
voices make me angry sometimes.
I suspect myself, being an unruly child

oranges in the vegetable cooler.
trade you potassium for some salt.

has nothing to do with fair.   is only about
why here, why now, why me.   stubborn.

then again, sometimes stubborn is like
the weighted earth.   anchor says I am
another name.
less now do I think in future-tense.
that alters more than you’d expect.
let go the rope.   you have two arms, two legs.

two feet to land on earth.


One thought on “caravan

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