Somewhere Outside Boston

Lying on the floor at the zen center. On meditation mats. To my left, two women knit socks. One dark. One bright. Striped. Mismatched. Not meant to be worn together. Bare feet toward the center. On a smooth, cool wood floor. Scattered papers. We're liking the word. Catalyst. Lists of tasks swirling in colored markers on the walls. Coffee cups. A storm blows through. We're loving the word. Catalyst.