still small
at midday I crunched across the cereal bowl
floor of the forest
never out of hearing of the lunch-grabbers with
their gas pedals and squeaky brakes
in the afternoon I drifted popeward in the
sanctuary of a Carmelite monastery
still unable to escape the commuters with their
combustions and their hybrid choirs
how am I supposed to hear the still small voice
when everything around me is exploding
/ / /
17 November 2021
Perinton NY
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