Three Things that Happened in March

Happened is passive.
So were the plates,
the pens,
the mountains.
They didn’t stop me or
so much as scowl.

I act in
frenetic street-steps,
elongated suspicion,
and imaginary waves.

But there are still strong verbs to be had,
boots shone by star lint
and the click of rhythm caught in contradictions.

I’d like to say I don’t
concentrate on the past
but I have a thick cream folder of
every look you’ve given me this month.

(the title was a prompt from a while ago from the lit mag Right Hand Pointing)

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