What I figure out in my head
makes so little difference —
tenuous story
hung by flimsy threads
between the bounds of
things I don’t know anyway,
nothing more solid than
conjectures that I form
by flattening reality
to see it from my narrow point of view
See? I don’t know anything —
Nothing, anyway,
about these figurines, these tokens, this
archaic game board, with its
esoteric rules of play
I don’t know anything
so I’ll await the return
of some deeper context,
some more inclusive dimension,
some hitherto uncharted way.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 14, 2014
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