What is possible
And what’s probable
Are two very
Different things one
Implies abundance and
One implies scarcity
One is sought
And then caught
The other one
Is woefully accepted
And usually regifted
In life choose
To either chase
Or to endure
Both trains will
Arrive at the
Same station at
The same time
I finally do
I admit it
I’ve often been
This way before
With different incarnations
The same boulevard
But different buildings
This street ends
Just over there
As it always
Has and then
I live in a
Little world of words
A tidy little place
Where words swirl about
Like snowflakes dancing until
Plucked and put giving
Meaning to me you
And whosoever shall write
Read know and adore
If there is one
Place I wish to
Go it is here
To my tidy little
World of my words
I’m beginning to shift
My style is changing
I can feel it
As certain as the
Swallow knows it’s time
To fly somewhere else
Hanging thoughts cliffs of
Words like pebbles kicked
Into the abyss seen
Heard and then disappearing
Words that mean nothing
Until they are gone
The mastery of none
I’m in the doldrums
Caught between hither and
Nigh limbo fence sitting
A wallflower waiting watching
And wondering who if
And when someone will
If they ever will
I see eyes eyeing
Studying snouts turned upwards
Trying to catch scents
Of fowl in grass
Some prey are thankful
For not being eaten
But me just once
I wish to be
Someone else’s midnight snack
