Loop

Curled up in bed,
I’m young
in the old way.
 
               •
 
One
continuous stroke

without lifting
the pen

as if

“stem, tendril,
stem tendril”

were the words
of a commandment.
 
               •
 
My next
elliptical loops

read “Praise.”

Word

deciphered

at a snail’s
pace.

Source: Poetry (March 2013)