Float like a butterfly

They say this is surreal,
with things not the quite way
they’re supposed to be found
inside four usual walls.

Observe the floorboards,
and see on strings,
barely inches above,
suspended grey, white clouds
weave through this room,
they hover, they weirdly swing,
settling upon the floor.

Whether they’re to be
moved around like chess pieces,
or singularly pushed aside
in an Ali bout of rope-a-dope
rain-cloud-busting
is entirely up to you, but it’s
somehow now possible.

Time for a little easy sparring
with the inside weather, perhaps.

If it’s going to rain, then it’ll rain
regardless, so a small measure
of playful intervention and
training is required.

What can it hurt, if the worst
has already but happened,
if I’m wet through, I no longer
see the same menace there.

This quite turns upside down
notions for what to expect,
when the outside door is opened
and given an entirely new handle,
one you chose yourself, and not
just accepted like a swing door
in a municipal gym.

This is a mental exercise room,
and you’ll never find the light switch,
without some lateral moves
over a choice of a life on the ropes.

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