Coming To A Fork In The Road

There is a path
that unwinds
before his feet

as he bites his lips
knowing full well
how this strange road
will elude all familiarity.

Still, the traveller
smiles and takes out from
his burlap sack
a beautiful, rippling piece of purple
that drapes loosely on his shoulders –

He’s saved it for the moment;
for this current predicament.

He buckles on his muddied shoes,
while watching the rain
bouncing off the weak fulcrum
of his hungry rapier.

He thought to himself:

“What better way
to smash initial discomfort
and the inertia of laziness,

through that split moment of
weakness – a vulnerability,
shamelessly exposed,
cheeks burning  –

the whip of life’s lessons?”

Then, as he steadied his
fiery steed, he remarked:

“How easy it is
for one to be mistaken
as alienation’s victim,

or being a less-than-grateful
affectation of a sore thumb!”

© Zelda Reville

I had to take some time out last week to dive totally into my reading. My apologies for the sudden absence!

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