Micro-minutes on Your Way to Work
Days are unusual. The owl sends out 5 zeroes from the pines plus one small silver nothing. Where do they float? Maybe out to sea, where jellyfish are aging left & right. They have some nerve. Today, no new wars, probably. No big button. The owl could be your scholar of trapped light or Walter Benjamin who writes a storm blows in from paradise. Thinking through these things each week, you cross the bridge: gold coils, fog, feelings… syllables also can grow younger like those jellyfish. You bring your quilt of questions in the car. At work, you’ll have to be patient at the risky enterprise of talking to other people; so little progress in this since the Pleistocene. Mostly, though, you’re calm when traveling: silver nothing, moving right & left; day releasing the caged stars; one thought mixed with no-thought, packed with light… for MK
Copyright © 2018 by Brenda Hillman. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 2, 2018, by the Academy of American Poets.