Weariness sets in, stiffens my neck for three days. I take a walk in hopes it will untangle my jangled nerves. I shuffle my feet on the path I used to know. Goats have since mowed the grass down to stubble. Their clustered droppings litter the ground, but don’t squish underfoot like grapes. A certain kindness.
but I’m afraid for the light, the hanging question beyond this forsaken grove of trees illuminated. Can my soul sing for what remains? I examine my heart, not knowing what I’ll find among the rubble. A rabbit in the bush, a bird in the air? I keep walking nowhere. Aware of my heels now striking the ground, five toes splayed inside each shoe. My feet are free. This is my resolute song– a jack-rabbit bounds from a thicket. Hind legs so long!
reaching for the rope
i’m reminded of my feet
able to move me
from the forest to the glen~
so it is solved by walking
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