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Formerly an amorphous, looming thing,
it seems to me that my future is shrinking.
It used to hang ominously in the air just above my shoulder
and whisper cryptic three-word phrases into my ear—
man tree disaster and moon ring riddle
things like that—they weren't questions
and they weren't answers; they were words that
made a mission of releasing invisible connections.
Mostly I was concentrating very hard trying to
keep a few steps ahead of my past, which was
generally breathing down my neck, but at least
it wasn't saying anything, cryptic or otherwise.
I could feel it there, getting larger all the time and
sometimes intruding into the present—
and what about the present, the little blip
between lines? It was always changing into something else.
Sometimes my past and my future would even
play a game of ping pong together.
The little ball would buzz past my ear,
the slaps of the paddles making it impossible to sleep.
Lately my past has been winning all the time and my
future moping a few feet behind me, not saying much.
Maybe it's feeling left out, maybe disillusioned
at the lack of a miraculous quest or striking revelation
and when it acts like that, I begin to ignore it.
It's lost most of its sparkle and brightness
and begins to seem irrelevant, even completely unnecessary,
as my past edges up to me and folds me into its arms.
go back
©2007 Susan R. Gilbert
www.plasticduck.net/susangilbert
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