When someone beloved has fallen into a jumble of delusion, it is almost as if their loss of balance is mine, as if, in my anguish, I am tilting with them, scrambling to decipher this strange new terrain.
Grazing Horses
Sometimes the
green pasture
of the mind
tilts abruptly.
The grazing horses
struggle crazily
for purchase
on the frictionless
nearly vertical
surface. Their
furniture-fine
legs buckle
on the incline,
unhorsed by slant
they weren’t
designed to climb
and can’t.
