Mooring


Because there’s nothing else
    to be done, I step outside
       breathe into the horizon.

Because today there’s so little
    to hold onto, I count
       the pylons crossing my eye line

trace the wires between them,
    patchworked fields and trees,
       white windmills on the farthest rise.

Because after all I’m here,
    I breathe in the wide expanse
       feel my body realign

tissue and bone, all the precious
    nothing, everything I can set my heart
       on, the back and forth of air

a rope braided between being.


Posted: Fri 11 Jun, 2021