to understand
the misunderstandings
of my understanding
is like trying to undo
with bare hands
a tight knot in rope
in brutal wind
frozen on Buggish Peak
in the Ellsworth Mountains
of our southern-most continent
as in, June in Antarctica
the futility of the enterprise,
knowing how the knot was first bound
the moment it happened or
over what period of instants
is itself preserved
in the ice of teachings
in the lure of turning away
in the pleasure of grasping
in the fog of wanting
in the fear of losing
in the knot, itself,
of being without
grace
Jim Culleny
3/18/22
Blink 