Every so often

To stop digging deep, to stop. 
All magic and truth napping in a corner 
while what I've done neither 
clears the way nor impedes; 
now content on ebbing thought, 
soft-stretched in a warm bed, 
morning and clean sheets 
like a park before birds, 
fog-muted city to cool
clear sunlight --

quiet, quiet loved by quiet,
mountains and memory 
books in silent rooms, all-beautiful,
pillow under my head,
rest for my back, 
soft hands,
yes.

*

Evolved

You remember it from somewhere:
“The only place now
I can hear myself think
is at the bottom of a swimming pool.”

So you try sitting 
down in the deep-alone.
Soon, no more bubbles to the top;
soon, eyes caressed in water’s well,
arms held — 
strange elongated creatures above,
splashing and splaying
toward cement shores,
over and over,
eager frogs fascinated by wavy light —

and you wonder whether
evolution
was such a good thing.

*

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