To retreat into silence – but not my own silence. The silence of images, of another’s carefully tended garden, front or back.

To retreat, retrieve, re-tread. To treat each word as a revelation, a piece of the greater silence.

To retreat, but not to withdraw. To be that mote in your eye, that skip on your mental compact disc.

To retreat into the thick of things: new fields, full of unknown flowers. Into forest and thicket, unfamiliar trees alive with unknown birds.

To re-treat with ice cream, with mangos, with passion fruit. To treat each other: would that make it double-Dutch? A confusion of tongues and jumpropes.

To retreat in order to engage. First to take leave (of what?) and only afterwards to greet, face to face.

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Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave’s writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).

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