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October 17, 2011

Inside the Circle: Days 7 and 8


I get lost a lot.  Maps don’t help.  Instructions
perfectly clear upon the hearing turn nebulous
upon the driving. I went to an expert famous for
rerouting inept minds. 

“Tell me the one place,” he said, “where
you were never lost.”
“My college campus.”
“Describe it.”
“It’s a circle.”


This year I bought a new calendar: all green circles
on cream pages, no squares anywhere. 
Six circles surround one center circle,
and all seven orbs gather inside one circular whole.
I look at this calendar often. It feels good. 


Fourteen circles ago, the news landed in my world. 
You: ill. The end: near.  I called.  We talked. 

Seven circles later, you called. We talked. 
You said the flowers were beautiful,
described their colors as observed by
your artist eye.  We covered our usual
subjects:  the children, life, art. I said, “You are very
important to me.”  You said, “It’s important to say
these things while there’s still time.” 
And then we said – we had to say – goodbye.

That night I walked into the circle
in front of my house, a grassy diameter
harboring young and old trees within.
The half-moon rose high, encircled
by one, unbroken Zen brushstroke of cloud.

Another seven circles passed, and
you slipped away.

Text, copyright Ysabel de la Rosa, All rights reserved.

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