Imagination and reality have been running together lately.
Poetry and other things.
I’ve been thinking about pairs and opposites.
Who goes together and who does not.
What opportunities do I have to see these connections.
And from these connections,
It feels selfish.
Like I am using other peoples
subtleties for my own personal gain.
Seeing a truck driver,
moving cross country,
like a poet. Winding down roads,
fighting the wind to not tip.
Tiny cot in the back.
Are the blankets warm enough? Do your legs stretch out?
Letting blood flow return to your knees.
There’s a constant wonder about who might connect,
and who might not.
A swimmer and a dancer go together easily.
A caterpillar and a chef is a harder one.
But I think we could find it.
In the way the caterpiller stays in it’s cocoon,
and the chef waits patiently for the pot on the stove.