by Les Wicks

Been a long time coming
but I now trust in moments.

There was Sunday, a toddler’s
anarchy of feet.
Why do adults forget cackling?
Hokey Pokey played on a loop
drowned out the pains. I too was dancing.

Tuesday saw a beach being peeled beneath
an uncrowned king tide.
A woman did Tai Chi
with passive seagulls balanced on her arms & head.
Long-time local Bob’s ashes were paddled out past the breaks
& he was settled down, deep amongst the kelp.

Then Thursday I was naked
beside another naked & complete.
We were anchors
affirmation.

These moments, barely cracks,
they’re too small for any belief to infiltrate.
One can’t build there
or easily track a return…
mounds & fissures dictate our “progress”.

Irretrievable
but inviolate
these glints string forward —
maybe not clear, no plenitude —
nonetheless my path.