THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



The Bending Directions...

“Providence and providence alone prunes the overgrowth blurring the pathways through the vineyard.” She said to me as the dust settled near the acrylic baseboards and moldings.

Four cars passed the front window in the moments between statement and response; a tuft of snow fell from the roof’s flashing; and, Seth Avett’s docile yet pensive voice asked “…are you aware of the shape I’m in?” from a clock radio in the side room.

Trusting that our respective directions will someday bend and converge rests in my foresight as a red bull’s-eye, seemingly indistinct past the tip of iron sights.

I have been fervent, near barmy with thoughts of Leopold and his cane passing by my door again and again.

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