Who plots his course in concrete lines,
Unswerving, unbending and uncomplicated.
He is a dart, an arrow aimed for the bullseye of life;
He is a winning horse nosing ahead at the finish line.
Others of us take circuitous routes,
Roads full of detours and roundabouts.
We chase rabbits down holes
And wishes down wells,
Pixie dust and promises.
We turn life’s map over to draw smiley faces with broken crayon –
Sequins and glitter are affixed with glue.
We black out teeth and add mustaches
Then sign our work with curlicues!
Sure, we move forward.
But we arrive at our destination covered in
Glitter, pixie dust
…And rabbit fur,
A few degrees off center
And well shy of the mark.
feature photo: Shutterstock
(Writing Prompt: FORWARD, part of Poetry 101 Rehab– Thanks, Andy! Feel free to jump on the poetry wagon each Monday!)
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