Friday, March 22, 2019


these morning walks
are getting dangerous—there, I said it.
There is so much
fierce wind up here

on the high wire of the mind! And I
admit, I am far more eager
than graceful—god knows things
are always a little

less pretty than they appear from
ground-level. But the
truth is, it's still
a perfect miracle—I continue to move

like some
parasitic amoeba would: with my
entire body, one fly-by-night pseudo-
pod at a time.