Work

is a maze of steps taken blindfold across hard floors
in calculated time

a hedgeless field where task and tax chafe in twin boots
that do not fit

a softened hand that holds back the head, forcing down
cold shots.

Work is a scaffold

or a boat

a locket,
clasped on an in-breath.

It begins with dice
rolled in a nursery

ends in the corner of a felted drawer
closing soundlessly.

First published in Tears in the Fence 76 Autumn 22