whose voice guides me
through these icy depths
as water slowly recedes
is it yours you who
must find an answer
to all our problems
or perhaps it's you
with perennial hesitation
never entirely sure fumbling
endless dichotomies
or is it your voice
I hear over the shush
of rolling pebbles
those tiny certainties
so painful when you
wear another's shoe
the reasonable one
always ready to give
benefit of the doubt
as you were taught
to the undeserving
treacherous lout
without answers
without certainty
without instinct
for all I know none of you
answer the complexities
of this moment i falter
a crawling amphibian
half swim half drown
creep ever so blindly
toward a familiar sound
along the murky bottom
slender toes extend and grasp
submerged memories
push off again a neonate
angling across the current
hooked on hope
YOU ARE READING
Express, baggage and all...
PoetryObjects in the mirror are closer than they appear... Just when you think you've put something behind you for good, you look back and find it trails you like your very own comet's tail, lighting a path through the dark. Reading through these pages...
