Afternoon is blue
with its pretend peopling,
juggernaut boots resting
after their testing
along the neighbor’s stone wall
(on the shadowy side).

Fuzzy lines mark possible veins
of reality versus extra-vivid surreality.
Only wind can tell the difference
between planes; nobody else cares.

Through a few branches,
the day fled
and a light clearly etched our steps-
me, forward
you, in reverse.
We danced in moonlight.

Music soldered his frayed nerves
building lofty towers
where coal mines had been,
a plaintive regeneration
a beckoning to flight.

The crack in the dashboard
allowed enough space to let go.

I was blessed at the gas station today.
A sneeze was my entry to Valhalla,
complete with chocolate peanut butter eggs
and live bait.
Everything I need was within reach
for once. Including lighters and magazines.
Milk, bread, and tissues before the blizzard.

My pea coat held me contained
like a turtle. Afloat in conveniences.
Imagining the fierce flight of Viking ships
as I stood in the oily wind,
I pretended I was a warrior queen,
surveying plunder of Tastycakes and beef jerky.
A blessed journey continues. Achoo.

Shuffling in snow, exploring dissolution
before the sky clears.
There are few questions worth the trouble.

But what are loose connections?
Where do we find solace?
Does what we believe stay the same
even as we change shape?

I think I want to know things.
I haven’t found my favorite poem yet.
I think I’m supposed to keep walking.