Something I’ve Not Done

Something I’ve not done

is following me

I haven’t done it again and again

so it has many footsteps

Like a drumstick that’s grown old and never been used

In late afternoon I hear it come close

at times it climbs out of a sea

onto my shoulders

and I shrug it off

losing one more chance

Every morning

it’s drunk up part of my breath for the day

and knows which way

I’m going

and already it’s not done there

But once more I say I’ll lay hands on it

tomorrow

and add its footsteps to my heart

and its story to my regrets

and its silence to my compass