Come Out of It
Now look at the knots you knead between
the next instant and its spinoffs, how they simmer
soup behind your forehead. You are hooked
to poke-fingered what-thens. So certain of them.
You know every crisp moment surprises, yet
there goes your breathing all thin again.
Remember how firm you were in a useless love
so stubborn you put “marry her” on your life list?
Thought you were visualizing an affirmation, but
drove your breakdown instead. Notice how you pause
writing because look, a cardinal pair out the window,
bobbing above a neighbor’s branch tangles.
Say goodbye to your snags. All your minutes
till this don’t take you into the next one, even.
Now go outside: the new tree wants fresh compost.