A Boy in a Gulley
Shimmering summer heat fills a meadow
Sheltered by a flowering thornbush, tall grass
Cool springwater shocks the feet
Mud and stones caress the toes
Wild mint scent locks in the nose.
Unsure of life's trajectory or if trajectory
is even good. The new squeezing in
the old out, no space between.
The desk chair ache relieved
by sidewalk vendor cheer.
Repetitious daily grind washed off by
Cleanliness of fresh rice noodles,
Abrasiveness of shrimp paste,
Bitter purity of green tea,
Liveliness of mint.
Mud between the toes.
Trajectory is not my goal,
Life is not linear
Mint is not confined to the
meadows of my childhood.
