• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 06


this rug where once I paced
                             frowning existentialist
              on the verge of breakthrough
                             is now my beach
              my garden  my park   my zen

                             toes lift and balance
              intricate bone malas
                             the rug maps a pale tracery
              of ebb and flow
                             it takes hours to reach
              the bold zigzag
                             where red slides to green

              my heartbeat slows to resting mammal

              I have the rest of my life to take
                                                                        one step