Paul located his boundaries.
He pushed on them.
They moved.
He noticed that pushing
one boundary forward
changed the shape
of all of his boundaries
that were out of sight
and momentarily out of mind.
When a boundary moved
his inner landscape
altered as well.
This was neither
a good nor a bad thing
but a true thing.
His inner landscaper
did not like his inner forests
dying off in one place
to instantly regrow
on what had once
been an inner grassland.
His inner buffalo
in a confused and hungry state
head butted his inner dreams
into a reoccurring guilt trip
where his moral compass
played spin the dial.
copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 