You must work at the edge
of an ocean to know
your ebbs and floods

the absurd churn
of the daily news
tar between your toes

my sister Barbara’s
handmade cards
poetry without steps

Eric gave me a card
wild stone staircase
like a waterfall

spilling down
a treed hill
shade and light

neither the top
nor bottom

the strides switchback
rise this and fall that
at the same moment

one climbs up
one descends
one walks around

the park
the neighborhood

here and there
makes no difference
which way you go

there is no peak
no all-time low

each section
its own part
fragment of time