My past-tense life, full of dangling participles,
A closet full of un-done novels, waiting for their final edit.
Shoe laces frayed from long gone hide and seeks.
Again, again, I see it all, stinging the air in front of my eyes;
Cracking, shattering, splitting, fading,
Finally the here and now again.
I see it all. I do from time to time,
I conjure up an arrow, cat gut pulling—
Don’t let me go!
I see my flabbergasted sinews dangling loose,
Their life swooshing toward some unknown target.
No bulls eye here for me!
Should I have stayed with that simple dartboard after all?
Well, now here I am, a feather for a friend,
Sinking into a spring-green branch.
What time is it anyway? ‘63 in Paris? Or Milan in ‘71?
Why drag that blackened coal-shoot past
Into this sparkling, solar-driven day?
It’s time to let those finite multi-sided polygons
Leap for their circles at last!