November 26, 2012 § Leave a comment
The one I’m wearing black and Gothic garb
But face looks as if rump was poked by barb
Perplexed about the next step, the next station
A deer in headlights – apt, the metaphor
Like stopping right in front of a big, tall door
Then wond’ring what you’re even stopping for
Your feet don’t move an inch upon the floor
That zones in on some things (I don’t know why)
But others fast forgets, like last year’s pheasant.
Perspective. Yes, that’s what I’ll need to switch –
The old one I’ll place in a muddy ditch.
© Joshua Owens 11/26/2012
Here’s the handwritten original: