(barley)

I am trying
to decide
how I feel
about barley,
a gooey bite
in my soup.
I cannot really
say I like it.
Though it is
endurable.
I would like
my life
above that,
what I can
survive.
It would seem
to go
without saying,
but in my case
I need to announce
it,
so that I remember
the goal.
It’s just that
for so long,
that was
the best I could
do.
Beyond survival
is a terrain
I explore
without a compass
– or map.
So I lean against
the counter
intent on gathering
data,
a piece of barley
between my
front teeth,
staring at the
tan line that
bisects its belly
where it sits
in my bowl.

5/15/00