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 many.


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 –

laughing –

the next day.



jk . 8/4/2016