Over time I have lost my hesitation.
Whatever else has raised
a voice, I have returned to this silence.
Not that it is really quiet here.
There are sounds but no noise,
no nonsense. If I am simple,
so be it. If I lack the sophistication
of a sparrow, all the better.
I would slough the snakeskin of myself
and start afresh, every morning,
with the dew. Start from scratch
with a new pot of coffee. Collapse
into this without hesitation
without that last little bit
of resistance, the whisper in the well,
the telephone in the house.
But wait long enough and the ringing
stops, yes, watch the wasp
cruise the wisteria, dropping to stalk
after stalk, her entire life
a tireless search for the next best thing.
