18.
At times, my mind
finds a hidden path;
a quiet path in a forest of green rain,
how to get from point a to point b
without making a scene
an unnecessary commotion
nothing to draw attention
to the new correct way,
i’m doing the tragically inconsequential
tasks that i can perform
i try not feel imperious or smug
during these productive periods:
i feel strangely as though
i should claim victory
as fleeting and fallow as it is
soon:
my own eclipse
will erase any victory