|
I Am What Might Happen |
To open the book of riddles
at random
to the exact page,
the answer
staring me in the face,
I am what might happen
if I look away.
The table of rhythms
could have poured iron
into my bones,
set my feet
on an unpaved path.
Instead,
I am
what I never planned:
fugitive,
tourist,
arms merchant,
logger,
growing poppies
in the jungle of my need.
copyright 2009
Florence
Weinberger |
