The place that one becomes by Lee Kaloidis

from where i sit gratefully out back in the chair beneath the tree by the bird bath on a green lawn sprawling with sunlight, a stage for squirrels that fidget in circles and for birds that come and go to the feeder or peck the ground for the seed beneath it, rake and shovel leaning against the white house wall next to the reel mower that works as silently as a monk, gardens holding their last flowers to their chests, insects flashing like glass chips, sky a faded blue setting for a white hot sun that never rests, leaves that breathe like boats asleep on a lake, sipping cold coffee from an old cup at noon while everyone is off and away somewhere, at the very center of the place that one becomes but cannot aim to be.

Lee Kaloidis is a visual artist with a history in poetry and improvisational music. He currently lives just outside of NYC with his wife and animals. More info can be found on his website @