something so innocuous, falter
that the relief of stepping beyond
surprises and stuns in the gentling
The living cascading with every
open space, wallow, and weft
nothing here confines, demarcates
except where hand has led
What something has brought me
to this place, the thicket,
measure as I will at times
the distance that now dissolves
Tremulous whatever that was
that stalled and pressed so
firm as hardened heart
neatly savaging my own wild
It is as if I have traveled 100
miles to arrive at this place
(not just 50 and counting steps)
and in no time bowering down
This less than tangle more than
epiphany surmounts the ease
of every confounded convenience
siphoning us to slumber in our ways
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