Obey the promptings of your feet
while in the wilderlands,
the unmarked paths of deer and
fox conveying you to nowhere
where you may find
that which you never sought
and which no human ever
captured on a map
in a painting
or a poem.
Retention pond behind the mini mall –
footstep stirred minnows
dart for shelter in the reeds
tawny with autumn.
Susurrant winds in the
wild-growth soften the idle
of the delivery vehicle.
Wrong you may be in your
trepidations over the world’s
unfolding,
your screen-mazed eyes misled
by misdirections
performed by run-of-the-mill
magicians who only see what they want
and want you to see the same.
Backyard where the mowing ends
morning songs through branches and vines
soft with fog
bright with dew.
Path worn by feral cats,
curved round decorative trees
and bird-seeded cedars,
small steps toward nowhere
ending at the neighbor’s fence.
Lips form the things you know
and feel you must express.
Causality is
itself
and not what you think with your head
full of histories that never happened or
happened in ways you’ve never conceived.
Your eyes at your feet on the earth
triangulating your untaken steps.
Between an empty school and the road –
flowing with headlights against the dusk – a
covert of pines
sucks up the noise and frames the
moon. Bright spot in a dark eye:
squirrel at rest in the crook of a young
tree alone, quite still
and emitting
soft sounds.
