instead of depression, dowels; sunshine in October

i am held close
on my right, a few
feet of wooden floor,
a tiny cast iron
woodstove, heat.

i am given to
drift on my left,
1/4 inch stiffness
of fiberglass, blue
blooming cold,
then the sea.

i feel the beseech
of sea,
its echo of cold,
pulling me from
myself.

i feel the closeness
of heat,
sun on wood,
all of it warbling.

it keeps me
to myself, just
as the cold
at my side
takes me.

a new friend
asks me, “how
do you keep
from being upset?
you seem so
able to accept
what comes your way.”
she, in her
newness, unaware
of the totality of
my common state;
a floundering iceberg
in shoreless ocean.
a white-hot ember
in forest of flame.

today though, today
i am neither and i am
both. i am
comfortable friend
with myself,
held in the warmth of
a well-worn palm.
and i am back-turned,
off wandering away.
out there where
the space speaks
its cold volumes,
and in here where
the heat draws you
with its ashes.

today we can be
both, both
the frozen horror
of human, and
the blameless heat
of human heart.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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