A Rock Through the Eye of the Needle

White wine completes fresh fish at the spa resort,

enough to take it all in, douse the fires,

chew on the stories of the sharks in the reef –

we’ll leave out the song about the rock

thrown through the passenger window

of our rental car, the tedium we met

each morning over coffee as we tried

to recover documents lost, spend less,

absorb the sense of enemy in our ribs.

It’s not the violation, exactly,

nor the stress on the phone with American Exprress

or Chase or United Mileage Plus –

it’s the world as we know it

bladders full of clean gasoline

that run us toward our destiny –

those left beside the road with empty tanks
find a rock, rejoice in the shatter

of all the glass we think we look through.