Slow Going

Take it with ease
A cool breeze.

Fingers touch on top of rock
No sugar
Taste of Wood
And past remembrances.

My feet held in a direction
before me here.

Jump rope steady.

A swing of the hand
And glance of the eye,
Subtle in understanding.
Born with a crescent lip.

Would you taste the direction?
And take it past.

I'm just turning the flame around

Slow going.

© 1988 Sonja J. Phinney (for Koyo Marrow)