Infinity is the management

of a life of grace. But she wobbles 
on one leg, trying to assume an attitude 
of balance. In the distance, two ships 
navigate a rough sea. Neither one 
has sent help signals yet. In another 
life which is merely another version 
of this one, she regards the growing
brightness beyond the hills. Glaciers
have not all melted yet, though that
change, too, is coming. White buds
return, slowly, to the wounded trees.
Her garments are without damage.
Surely there is a bridge that leads
across the treacherous water. 
Surely a change exists, shaded 
a different color of blue.