Yesterday on a shore, I came to
the new familiar sun casted a smaller shadow of me
I left it and slipped to a world of blur
in the rain I chased others — leaving trails no one sees
they’re all up ahead in gaussian waves
Exhausted, I slept on a wet porch
the rain stopped and they closed their umbrellas
I carry my shell rain or shine
it carries me rain or shine
I moved on across bridges
and seasons for where I could see
others in definition; a cradle
with time for moss and accretions.
I will get there someday —
a city of snails,
and leave my shell on its shore.
