Work in Progress

 

There’s work that needs doing. Also some place

that I need to get to, not everything

can be a zoom call. Sometimes face to face

is essential. Tactility is king.

Textiles, metals, intimacy, grieving.

 

And fragrance needs a different protocol –

grass crushed underfoot, wildflowers in spring.

wet boots on the landing. Wool coats in the hall.

The sweat soaked armpits of workdays cooling

on the bus home. Sharp points of unfair rulings.

 

There’s work that needs to be done. Some other place

I must be where helplines aren’t unforgiving,

all meaning isn’t derived from screens. There’s space

for spoken words, slow growth, small-footprint living,

feather-touch grace. Where tactility’s king.