AT A CROSSROADS

For those of us waiting at a crossroads.

itinerantneerdowell

mojave-phone-booth

A gangly group
Marched, to quell
The darkness
Burdened by
Guilt and sin
Guided, only by
Maps, that were
Old and faded
Met at a crossroads

After a
Universal
Declaration
That others
Had it easier
The inspired
Uninspired
Played the
Same games
On the same
Swing sets

Naysayers
Hung hopes, on
Tangible things
Wrecking balls
Hallowed halls
Pointed the
Path to wealth–in
Abandoned buildings
Old phone booths

Discussion, turned to
Hats with chin straps
Wine with screw caps
Others, involved in
Ethereal pursuits
whispered, to spirits
Of others, that
Weren’t there
But, nobody cared
While, they wailed
Waved handkerchiefs
Pulled, from hidden
Jacket pockets

After, a series
Of, carefully
Orchestrated
Appearances
Disappearances
The group, claimed
To have, all
The answers–they
Weren’t hurting anyone
And Icarus be damned
They could fly
To the sun
If they wanted

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Author: warturoadam77p

65 year old married retired communications worker with three grown children, transplanted from the Midwest to the sunny Gulf Coast.

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