Twist
There was the task
Before me jagged-edged to the touch
And plump nonetheless
Ready to be skewered and reeled in,
But I could not do it.
With all the times it had been done
Fresh in my memory
It was nothing but another step
Down a well-trodden beach-path
But neither leg would move.
If it had not been for the briars under foot,
The ones I could not see,
But knew were there,
I might have forward moved,
But there was more.
It was knowing that I would go there
And still be here,
That here was there,
And there was nowhere.
So I turned.
Turning not out of interest
But of necessity.
There was no other way to go
Unless I wanted to die there on that path
And speak no more of dreams.
©
Copyright 2011, Douglas Decicco, Lighthouse Point, FL
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