Jody Zolli

I gaze into machinery
Which glimmers and reflects
The works, uncovered, moving
Are intricate, complex

Awkwardly I reach inside
With soft, uncertain hand
With every good intention
But no tools at my command

The mechanisms softly grind
With cadences unique
Recessed and unfamiliar
Off-beat, awkward, bleak

I cannot clearly see the path
Where gear against gear grates
I can only hear them move
Against now ill-meshed mates

Uncomfortable with watching
Unable quite to flee
Unwilling to plunge hands where pain
May grind what´s left of me.