USING THE ENIGMA
The soul presses the body; onward
both go. Springtime looms in the
dead-tired bushes and trees. Barren
and forlorn, life seeks refreshment.
What can be done about this is
unknown : bare cupboards and
empty cabins in the woods.
-
I saw a frog today; I don't know
what kind. But its spindly legs were
flaring out, underwater, and with a
mission. I thought of the future. A
form of tomorrow, I guess.
-
Is that so. Is there really a tomorrow
for me? Can I yet survive another
oblivion. Even my thoughts hurt. I
glimpsed the frog as it disappeared
into the murky mud. I think, anyway.
Seeking the mate to raise its own
future; 'midst mud and sticks and
bone? Why bother? Just take me home.
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