Tuesday, February 7, 2023

SIMULTANEITY

Like invisible wind stirring 
phantom leaves 

on a dead-
to-the-world old 
elm tree in February, 

so you, too 
reshuffle reams 
of dull memories 

to which you still cling, though 
you never seemed
to live-through.

You see obscure eternities
meandering forever, 

while recalling 
with clarity, that it all started 
somewhere.

Just for now, all your fear 
can be turned 
inside-out 

to resemble 
what you'd called, in your 
foolish youth, "wonder,"

while the confusion, 
which looms in the darkness
at its center

both attracts and 
consumes you—

like a massive 
black hole in the middle 
of the universe

and a huge, heavy whetstone 
which your strength
will not move—even as 

you somehow use it 
to sharpen-up
your truth.