a dog a hike a path through the mind

if you come across a patch
of burdock thistle

you’d walk by it without

of possibility

or how a burr sticks
to your socks

or the way seeds
cross borders
            to blossom

               cloth that sticks to cloth 

                            George de Mestral walked his dog
                            hiked the Alps collected

                            burrs on his pants
                            without annoyance

                            he held fascination in his hand           like a bird
                            lost in wind

                                          tiny burr          seed of
                                         how to bind cloth to cloth

                            he waited with his dog
                            for ten years

                            for his mind to thread

the Alps are sweet with Spring
his dog barks at nothing
floating in air
               burdock root clings by hooks to loops

a walk with his dog
light trailing behind

he changed
from cotton threads to nylon

from coffee to tea

something in the redness of the setting sun
triggers something else

              thought catches fire
at the cusp of giving up   he buys pinking shears
                   Velcro appears

                            wedding of velvet and crochet

                            the way the mind weaves thought to thought
                            mends knot after knot

                            you hear wind lost
                                            in the wood thrush’s throat
                            a dog’s bark rips

                            seeds of the burdock