Threads

Were I to dance on the fabric of fate?
flimsy stuff made of far future threads
threads into time which arrive too late
because another executed instead. 

Were I to fall into entanglements far below?
question connections
interrogations 
situations
none could follow.
Were I to find a way in through the way out?
sure she gave me a thread 
I used my brain instead
came out by a back door 
burdened with clout.
For I’d met a monster on the inside
I’d had to slay because it was in the play
where I needed to come out
victorious, or there’d be no 
upside.
Were I to learn to live with cells grown old?
could they be refreshed given more time?
What else should I to ponder as I strain to hold
a kettle to the kitchen tap
then let it overload 

and splash


Richard M. Russell © Dick Russell
                          July 23, 2022