Practice

"I hid from the practice for years." Yes,
same same, and then, "well, I have tried
everything else, how about I just

back into this corner and sit it out?"
So, did that, and the blackberries
crawled up the windows like triffids,

mice ran over my numbed feet, spiders
nested in my green flute, and it was all good
because no me ... and then, surprise surprise,

Venus had swung round the setting and also
rising sun, and hovered over dawn like a thing.
Didn't that guy, you know, backed into a corner,

sitting under a tree, look at this and smile?
The hell did he think was so funny? This light
in my tired eyes is not the photons

he saw, or you see, or I will see in so much
as a microsecond, but there it is anyway.
Shining. Redeemed by all that has been left

unsaid.