A person protests to fate:
"The things you have caused
me most to want
are those that furthest elude me."
Fate nods.
Fate is sympathetic.
To tie the shoes, button a shirt,
are triumphs
for only the very young,
the very old.
During the long middle:
conjugating a rivet
mastering tango
training the cat to stay off the table
preserving a single moment longer than this one
continuing to wake whatever has happened the day before
and the penmanships love practices inside the body.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem