Fissures

February 21, 2005

6:38 AM

Status Quo.
There is no status quo.
Aleatory promises;
uncertain hooks
upon which she
hung her life;
they make it so.

Misgivings abound
as she turns her head
to look back down
the way she came.

Known for integrity;
her reputation
for loyalty and
steadfast faithfulness.

These absolutes
dissolve into mist,
and she grasps a branch
as her head
begins to spin,
and thoughts spiral
into cracks and crevices-
great fissures mended
not long ago
with the cheap concrete
of necessity.

Might-have-beens
threaten to undo
a heart turned cold
and stone-like.

"What you want
is irrelevant,
what you've chosen
is at hand."

She turns back
toward the summit,
and climbs.