Negative of a snowy mountain. image credit: DHBogucki 2018

Milestones

This flesh casket — a maze. You can stand at diverted paths
and never remember
the feel of dried crust falling from your hand,
nor the sound of your humming.
Every last one traversed
in this tiring game.
Slipping felt practical.
The newness of disbelief
came as a sigh.
Growing fond of the fragile grin.
Sweeping up crumbs became a metaphor for rebirth.
Patiently life is cast into the dustbin.

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