synecdoche haiku

running down the hill
my calves are tight as two fists
knuckled and punched out


Reality is a complex system of complex systems of complex systems irreducible to neat metaphor

She runs down the slope into the greenhouse and pulls the door behind her with one fluid gesture, a blind demi-pirouette. Click of latch. Warm moist air on her flushed cheeks. On the surface of her eyeballs. Breathe. Breathe. Life should not be a battlefield. Life should be a garden.