intervening pained
and delighted
lies the softest
landing, otherwise known
as confused.
As a new infant
furrows her brow at
our humming
or the tabby cat cocks
his head left
and meows
while we vent
the day's frustrations, or try
to say I love you—
so too, do I
find myself, once
in a while,
when I chance upon
some photo of a life
long-left behind,
becalmed
as a raft between two
agnostic oceans—
marooned on that reef
between anguished
and amused.
