Has always been more Plan B, every day
Extends that contingency plan in play.
Real lives . . . shiver through us, leaving their mark,
The reviewer, wisely, writes, and it’s true,
But the mark that’s left is not a real life.
The lizard basking on the basalt slab
In the warmest hour of December sun,
The one hour strong enough to warm cold blood,
Is life. It does what it does to stay life,
And that’s how real lives differ from the mark
Left by the shivering of other lives,
For whom just getting by and nothing else
Was not the first plan they planned for themselves.