George Payne lives and writes in Rochester, New York.
Chi
By George Payne
By George Payne
It felt like cupping a shapeless
bubble, fragile as a Robin’s egg
but without a center. Weightless and
resting in nothingness.
My neighbor probably thought I was crazy.
I didn’t care. I had been searching so long.
I should have known
it was always with me.
To look within.