everything finally could have been

different and everything didn’t have

to happen this way. but every

outcome is an occurrence

while acceptance and rejection

are two gloves before which

we wriggle. maybe if i were nimbler,

if i’d risen quicker from the table

if i’d done that before the tropical

rains or if i’d lit the fire

could i have burnt the scattered questions.

but the outcome’s not pronounced

the dark is not described.

i’ll come out into bad weather

to trample a path

and i’ll carry the knowledge

on my shoes.