Saturday, December 11, 2010

201. Folding into Place

The convoluted
way that the
world comes
apart reminds
us of the way
everything folds
into everything
else

         Fingers
of the left hand
through fingers
of the right and
something holds
together, hands
in tandem, or
holding steady
if the rain falls
cold and sharp
through that
last grey sky

The foot can’t
hold but it can
walk and wade
through what-
ever needs
wading

            In-
stances appear
at the most un-
expected times
and place a
burden on our
consciousness
(so much to make
sense of or
make into
a story to tell
sometime after
it doesn’t matter
that it’s hap
pened) for we
are the ones who
write our lives
down or open
them up

             Story
could be about
the weather
if cold enough
or a meal if
good enough
or a trip thru
weather to
a meal where
we recalled
the pieces of
a bigger story
we almost
never told

                 I
remember the
remnants of
a world we
used to live in
and vaguely
the contours
of it, how we
made, without
help from the
rest of reality,
a new way
of doing and
doing it well

Something
stops all of
a sudden
and all of
us, and it
seems to
disappear
but it be-
comes just
a thing to
remember
back into
place enough
times that
we would never
forget it.

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