Difficult Degrees

How strong the wood is

how heavy the water

how fire burns you and saves you

how we can suffocate in space.

A leaf knows no direction

and it cycles.   How I slip across

a plank of moods

how I gaze so far in my small mind

how I am not this sick body,

but a cycle–a circle, a painted sphere in orbit

given to touch–to feel–magnitudes.

I know no direction.

The dark, the light–two poles of a whole.

Balance: I pull you too far down and then too high,

but at such lengths I wander beyond myself

examining the weight

the burning

the constancy

the continent

of such a life.






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