where it isn’t pre-route,
when it was pre-loop.
when scattered light was truly directionless.
votive candle and toad to
breathe in the thick feeling of reconnections.
a sun just behind
a tree to bend the forest into a circle.
i will be 50 years old
in ten years today.
i thank and duck and push magic
and slurp and limp to mailboxes,
scan my life for great stories and find them,
so privileged i feel for being bent toward
the struggle inside humanity;
the real, daily charms and jokes
and torn-hair, soul-squeezed wails
of real grief kept just at bay.
and to enter –
the next day.
jk . 8/4/2016