making beds
instead
of writing poetry
there only
comes
a title
enter Zelva
with a czech
‘z’
that sounds
like
‘zj’

what does it mean
when your eight year old
is struggling
in the morning
with shorts that are too big
you’re making pancakes
but thinking of that book
you want to write

if only there was time

there’s that
slow
moving
turtle
in the backyard
the one that just
showed up one day
making you all
pause
stop
and stare
observing
every hint
of movement
each one
counting
so very much

enter Zelva
putting us all
in some sort
of meditative
state
wondering
about the world
inside her shell