Like a pie sliced with shaky hands 
my life rests in a pan
cut into seven uneven pieces

At an age when a self can stand
outside the body’s being,
one holds and releases

millions of tiny things…loss
is the change in our pockets
we refuse to spend

*****
When Dr. Hue joins me 
on the bench at Alligator Lake
he slips a note into my book

Late into the early morning 
there’s an opening of heart
for me to read:

no no one pulling 
the strings

everyone wishing
there was