A dogged Tide of Thoughts

I cross my legs—not my mind, sitting

On a chair next to the bay window to prop

Up a notepad, I see a family of turkey

Looking for breakfast in the morning haze,

In the field across the street,

A dogged tide of thoughts rushes to shore

With the repeated sinewy siren of question

Why and what am I doing now?

Life spelled in thoughts and rhetoric

Is situationally unique, I’m told,

But there is no difference in the spell check—

L-I-F-E with a silent “E” to liven up “I.”

My small thoughts are like the silent “E”

To liven up the collective values

Like a droplet in the ocean.

However dogged and ragged my thoughts

Are, they are uniquely mine, so I think.

But wrong! Look at the spell check.

If I reverse “I” with “E,”

The spell check checks me out.

Life is contradictory. My little raft

Riding the long river crosses

Many lands with many tongues,

Even the sign languages have their own rules.

The tide retreats back to the big waters

Leaving a line on sand,

Meanwhile I uncross my legs

But the thoughts cross my mind.


Year of the Rat