Sometimes, entering her office and crossing

from the door to her desk, or while at her desk

pausing to look up from her work, she catches,

instantly the whole space she knows so well,

seeing it all, every item, and every story behind

every item, how it got there and what it means;

and how she got there through a sequence of left

right turns and choices made as a younger woman

leading to a half beast waiting at the core,

with a strangeness she fully assimilated

and made her own to become something

she could never have imagined or trusted

as the younger woman unfurling the frayed

thread she had intended to retrace.