you won’t know what this poem will be tomorrow.

perhaps a stranger, fellow traveller, or even lover, lost.

we might remove the mask only at the very end.

anticipation.   who I am.

dare – surprise.

borne again.   (the other way)

he tells you his name.   his hand to his heart.

meaning here, you understand.   same circle

where you now stand.   grace is given.

I am the poem.   not some object, in another box.

treat me as if I were alive.   a candle flame.

is it yours?   ownership curls at another’s feet.

but still, reading makes you integral.   magical.

so yes, you’ve been here before.   there,

your initials carved on the landscape and.   this story,

as they say, it’s a mystery.   come tomorrow to see the end.