Taking Stock at 30

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TAKING STOCK AT 30


Between the folder labeled

Diminishing Portfolio of Exceptional 


Experience, the bursting manila

of dreams penned in red crayon


Another Life, and in the back

a plat map showing boundaries


which, if by no means cramped, 

are neither too expansive, 


there’s a three-ring-binder 

stuffed with a record of ordinary 


occurrence on extra ordinary days,

a hodge-podge catching all


like the corner chair in a bedroom

or the kitchen junk drawer,

the assortment filed under the only

heading expansive enough for it all:


Hallelujah!

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