…if only the doubting self could
Spin counter it’s orbit
She stands
Still
Even though she knows
Better will always
Come here and
Now
Those miles clear
But corners are tricky
Can’t see past the bend’s
Blind spot

She got up and made coffee
And thought about leaves
Good Mourning doves
Paced at her doorstep
Her heart quickened
She sipped slow
What was she supposed to–
Remember?

The pace of cow’s chewing grass
The length of animal waste
A sloth convention
The therapeutic process
The speed of a snail
The time it takes to cook a turkey

She has no choice but to move
She has no other move but–
The chess board demands an opponent

Lest she be mawed
Or eliminated
Threatened
Dis-eased
Stepped on
Raw

She looked up from her cup
Ah, she remembered: “change”

She was moved

Your turn…

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