I am looking at the black cover
of my journal..where
these numbers stand 2014..this measure
of the line from my birth..a lengthening
line we each own..now Billy Squirrel
approaches my seat on a sunny porch
morning..and come to think that Billy
knows no line..his moment's interest is
a just discovered peanut..now standing
and hands handle as I would if becoming
that squirrel..are there matters more
important..on this Saturday morning..
than erasing that line..and becoming
as Billy with attention all gathered
to that peanut delight...