Lines of Demarcation
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

The robins, squirrels,
the bees investigate the day—
morning’s prashad.

I wake disheveled, but ready
for the journeying. I am the one
who descends—a celestial time-

keeper–a one-person envoy—
sailing towards soundings and distances,
everything elaborating everything,

yet going unchanged. The lines
of demarcation were never real
to begin with.