An Untitled Poem Poem by aMan Bloom

I make a wrong turn
She is there
I take my jacket off
He is there
I haven’t seen her in twenty years
after only meeting her once
I’ve never met him before
except on the internet.

What cosmic phenomenon is unfolding;
why am I at its crease?

Is it really nature that is sacred;
is it really life that is holy?

Is there such a thing as a wrong turn
-or a right one;
may I take something off
and still have it on?

Is nature sacred; is life holy?