Don’t you think it’s like our 2 hands
this inner life and that outer life?
Look down at them – the way they cooperate
but differently
nearly the same, but with inseparable dexter and sinistry.

The outer life is a squirrel
busy, frantic, and obsessed with nutty things:
hiding, running, vital, particular.

The inside is pollen
dandelion fluff
floating, enormous, the forest aware of its breath.

No wonder it seems so often
that I am lost.