INTENTION
I bend low, grab my laces, gritty with
beach sand and tie my leather hiking
boots, one tug at a time until each
loop is taut and my fingers are
rubbed raw from the pulling and
finally I create the familiar loop
over loop, the tuck, the pull through
the last determined yank as the bow
is held tight and firm. I stand
and stretch and turn a full 180 degrees
over the logs, till I’m running on the logs
running over the logs
in mid-air, feet flying like
a stunt in one of those Japanese
films with flying daggers
feet airborne, body
flipping, gravity gone, dancing,
hurtling, pitching over the tree
tops, and onward into the clouds, such is my
determination to walk away from you.
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