in this world, you will have trouble.
your actions will uproot and mow down.
your stillness will be filled, to the brimming limit,
with hopelessness and a sort of surrender.
at every turn, unintended consequences.
the seed cries out for the sower.
the animals pant for feed and water.
each human dwelling casts its shadow
a long ways back into deprivation
or forward towards oppression.
even the neighborhood weeds —
long and rangy browns, birdleg reds,
and the blacker, empty husks —
shake their heads against you.
hissing and sighing line your paths,
and the warmth of companionship
leaves the hearth that much cooler
when it goes.


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