Cycling

Spending the days
Next to you

Hammering away at recreations

The stones I built and rebuilt

By the patterns I already know
Pretending the chisel changes the heart

Working desperately to form something new
Bare hands to clay, already dried, no longer malleable

Boggled with resistance and confusion

Of the stacking and re-stacking
all the while

Singing the same old songs

I stand kvetching to the moon

Only to find I am

Diligently recreating the foundations and walls
I have always known