The Fish and the Circle

by
Laura Solomon


The circle was cast to protect me.

It did its job - muggers, persecution and dodgy boyfriends
bounced off as if repelled by a physical force.

I purchased myself a lair,
a little ivory tower,
in which I now lurk,
a middle-aged witch
casting spells.

Everything fell into place,
just like they said it would.

I never believed them, of course,
but now I have proof
that ether can be made solid.
That a world can be spun,
a new cosmos created when the old one explodes,
that something can be brought forth from nothingness.

Now I have proof that driving this road
will indeed lead, eventually, to your desired destination,
no matter how heavy the load.

They say, you still have far to go,
but the road is endless,
so even at the end of my days,
there will still be tarseal not travelled.

I did the best I could with the time I had -
nobody can say fairer than that.

The air here is rarefied -
for our special lungs -
breathe in, breathe out, breathe back into life,
any day now you could hook the big one, reel him in,
lay him gasping upon the shore,
sunlight glinting on his scales.


Copyright 2010. All rights reserved.

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