Thursday, July 24, 2008

Skip

Too long
in this liminal state
congestion
in my rite of passage
stuck in traffic
shaking my fist
at fate.

Betwixt and between
when a fish leaps
when a bee stings
when lightening arcs
moments
between moments

not meant to be prolonged.
From the middle note
of the song
we must not find punctuation
but must move on
or skip
or skip
or skip
until gone.

2 comments:

lissa said...

"shaking my fist at fate." - yeah, who hasn't done that? I like the way this poem sort of makes a complain but somehow giving advice at the same time

KGT said...

Thanks for the comment and for stopping by, Lissa!