The ambassador of
my mind has brokered temporary peace.
Up and down, left and right, nature-nurture
will have to step away from the negotiation
Sinews and joints have stored winter’s gear
in accordance to the cold season’s lease.
I have polished the handrails and mended the sails
for voyages to be made when the sea
with the gravity of tides from moons yet to rise.
The grass is cut and the palsied sprinkler
is ready to rain.
Spring flowers are blooming in reckless array.
Silence holds sway as noon rolls quietly by
like a lollygag wheel with no theorem to try.
My skin is laid in repose on the couch,
arms crossed, a pharaoh who’s down for the count.
I fall into this well-tailored suit with
For the next hour, or maybe for two,
I will live inside myself and banish all
Let Ishmael go down to the sea in a ship
to measure his seasonal soul with
The best way to level the playing field
or settle the score is to chase an
afternoon nod, not whales.
Let there be only when, not why or how.
I’ll live in my skin and do nothing for now.
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