December 24, 2019

tracks

You don’t have to build a bridge, or dismantle the evidence of the one  
that couldn’t take you across. You don’t have to clear the ridgeline of invaders  
or plant anything that will last past this season. You don’t have to turn where the sign  
tells you or leave when the road disappears. Instead, trace the rugged country 
of your heavy heart before you slice it in fourths. Linger at the frosty questions
barring you from a clear view of the future. Allow the thinness of a porous minute  
to stay unpierced by your clamor for change or progress. Place one delicate uncertainty
in front of the other. Let your sorrow entangle with the stain of summer’s last berries.
Maybe what brought you here won’t be the thing that makes you stay. Maybe there are 
no coordinates for the place you are straddling. Only stones. Only wind. Only birds.