Terra Firma

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 TERRA FIRMA


At certain times—this morning for instance—

the sky inexplicably curves into the distance

in an uninvited reminder that once again 

that this is a planet and I’m not the only one

unmoored and spinning through space. 

I’ve found that the best escape

is to breathe deeply and keep driving

until I find some tree-cover to pull down

the horizon and steady things. 

The reeling dissipates and I matter again,

and my kitchen renovation matters again, 

and getting home to prepare my lesson plan 

is something that means something. 

What is man that you are mindful of him

as he tries to stay between the lines,

get somewhere other than despair or a lie?


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