It was impossible, of course. But it was tested.
The skipping rope was pulled out of the back
Seat of the hybrid sedan and seized in both
Hands. When it hit the foot-deep autumn snow
It stopped, leaving only a lash of imprint. I’m
Going to go out on a burdened limb and say
This means everything. Everything is, of course,
Tested, pulled, seized, hit, stopped, and leaving
Only a lash of imprint. Everything you know
And everything I’ve told you, however long
You last, only the indented sickle of that lash.
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