I have cocked arrows at meaning
in libraries, coffee shops, cafes,
restaurants, bars along both coasts.

I doubt I’m getting close but found
a spot near my house with large
windows in view of construction

cranes, a crosswalk, a man eating
yogurt on the sidewalk as cars
drive past. He’s doing something

about his gut; me, I’m just trying
to write from the heart, my art
wending itself out from the street

into a mail truck, a magazine
placed in a box in an envelope
for my new hands to open.

(originally published in Dreich Magazine, Summer 2021)