for days I’d stare at the downward pathway I’ve built in my head
it’s made up of wooden chunks;
willow and ash
with enough space in between to grow
leaves of grass
it leads me down to my own sea
where I can start contemplating jazz and
climbing birches in my mind
knowing there’s nowhere I should be
other than the Ether of camera screen—
or by that Aether blessed blue sea
for it keeps me alive