Uncertainty
You trust all of it, you do.
Even quicksand has a bottom. Pink is
the color your heart beats, beats above ground,
picking up pigment and pace before those toes
touch bedrock - oh, but the saturation trembles
on pulsed aftershocks before you climb hands
and knees out of it, safe. Knew
the length of yourself and depth of regrets,
what kills, the lesser threats (cancers
and accidents), and days. Knew them
absolute - but asphalt’s gone squishy with rain,
hasn’t it, Girl, and what’s under
is manmade and sluggish sewer. The good
globe entire is paved with intent and you
have lost where to step.
.
[after "Assurance" by William Stafford from Contemporary American Poetry, Fifth Edition]
