On
a way that
wasn’t a way I came
to a makeshift bridge of rotten
planks. I looked in my sack. There was
not even a cowry shell. What
shall I give to get
across?
I
went a way
that wasn’t a way. On the
dangerous embankment of my mind
I looked in my sack but could not
find the Name of God. What
do I give to get
across?
