Which is why I negotiate terms,
digging for meaning, reason,
some logic where mostly wounds
seep, spilling over the container.
Which is why I read and doubt,
tapping out a way toward resolution
of those words not my own.
Which is why I am never settled,
spinning some storied cloth
for comfort in understanding another.
Which is why I still write.
(Inspired by Amanda Potts’ post here: https://persistenceandpedagogy.com/2023/03/17/parking-sol23-17-31/)