muscle

meteor showers!
for no reason

the low lying clouds,
heavy on the ground

murking days and hours
in the contracted heart

Tolstoy, Dostoevsky like drama,
a cold Russian winter,
Siberian boots walking across  my chest
in the night

and in the morning,
still cold

am i dying?
on the way down the hill...?

and out of Nowhere
the bicep begins pumping iron!

it LOVES this motion,
this "work"

strength is.
in it

resistance and strength are lovers

the heavier the weight,
the darker the night,
the more my adequacy,
capability,
and Generative Life--
rejuvenating Itself

glows