TAI CHI IN SNOWSHOES

Tai Chi in snowshoes
Comes on when
My flaming arrows do not fire
When too many ball bearings
Escape from my skateboard
When my fragile flower
Storms delicately through
The thoughtless concrete
To find itself in a pile of dog shit

In these bleak moments
Underscored with the thin grey laughter
Of the cosmically humorous
I feel a need to collapse
And simultaneously feel
That all movement has intonations of order

So this flamed out, wobbly flower
Becomes Tai Chi in snowshoes
And I move into the ordered movements
As if for the first time
Tai Chi in snowshoes
There is no snow
There are no snowshoes
There is not even any winter
There is only Tai Chi