POLYPTYCH, WITH BREATHING ROOM
I.
The day is a circuit board
before the solder sets—
every junction still a question,
every wire still warm.
II.
Someone needs a compass.
I am not north
but I can point
toward the last time
I was lost like that
and found the edge.
III.
Two ripples meet
in the middle of a coffee
and neither cancels.
That's the whole theory
of advice.
IV.
At dusk, the inbox empties
like a birdcage
left open on purpose.
Nothing dramatic.
Just two small flights
and the latch
still swinging.