“on the edge of the sand they danced by the light of the moon”
the owl and the pussycat
an old story allows
for improvisation
key moments open doors
to thought of course
must not be omitted
they provide anchors
to hold a mountain’s face
as wind buffets throughout
our tangled vision’s hair
between those moments
of unremarked repose
unfold the thousand days
within a thousand moments
where one must attend
within a softer light
to follow each shuffled step
to move along again without
a singular momentous fall
a dancer’s grace’s required
to negotiate a toe turn
with smoke’s dexterity
to leap each rubbled crevasse
and land in a hard lurch
with enough of a balance
to stumble down our path
with but a hint of surety
flowing at our unstable feet
(March 25, 2016)
