It’s a warm Sunday afternoon
Hard concrete beneath my feet as I make my way
To the bright clear outside, stopped briefly by
The elder one I met only they day before
I cross the threshold back into the world
“Draw it tall”, he tells me, gesturing wide
“Open yourself all the way, and remember — “
His fingertips on my cheek now, gently grazing
“Here, to here.”
From now on, with every draw
I wonder if my arrow on my face
Will summon that touch
Soft and steady
Full of years, and lessons
And kindness for this stranger
May 17 – 24, 2026
Comments