at these crossroads
where I stand and hesitate
alone, invisible.
So many paths to the future!
Not all will suit my feet.
And they go in different ways
to different destinations.
First I must re-discover
the me I left behind
at the point before brambles
covered the road.
Where would she have gone
if the way had been clear
of thorns and tangles?
What would she have discerned?
Who was she, that girl?
That woman?
I know the face ... almost ...
as one dimly remembered.
I close my eyes, step out,
creating a new path:
questing for me in my future,
on the chase to catch myself.
Poetic Asides April Poem A Day Challenge 2013, 9: A hunter poem and/or a hunted poem.
One of your best, Rosemary. Tells of the challenge in reinventing oneself when life changes courses, as it is wont to do!
ReplyDeleteVery nice! I too, often ask myself, "who was that girl, that woman?"
ReplyDelete