April 23 Letting Go

you might think
that by uprooting
my tenuous tendrils
that were pretending to be deep
deep, deep as roots
after shaking off
loose sand
blowing away

i would have no trouble in letting things go

there is a sort of clay
however
that clings in the fine hairs
not damp or sticky
invisible, the way plastic
infested by static
plies itself
it stays and stays
i shake my finger to have it transfer to the other hand
peel it off to have it drift down
zip to my leg
a small thing
transparent and put away
and never a problem till i notice it

i need a breeze to slide a claw
underneath, to flick it off me
though it’s those same winds
who float me away
scour, fill the let-go things with stick