What you realize after all
is that there is no catching up
no beating the odds
no shortcut through the woods.
What you realize
is that it is a slippery slope
a blind alley
a dead end
however you spin it
waiting for you
in aisle 7 at the supermarket for instance
or at the 19th hole
or at the slots in the casino
or on your well-worn walking path
along the river
or on a beach even
during summer’s dog days.
The shadows behind the blackened windows
now out of earshot
suck the life out of your collected works
your interim reports
your bargaining chips
your plans.
Red, green, white, blue.
No different.
No options.
Prep chefs and blackjack dealers among others know this.
Why else do salads border on wilt
or tires on 24-speeds flatten
just as one is about to crest a hill
ring up a sale
return the library books
sail off into the sunset
swim to a distant shore
look in a mirror to find home?
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Robert and Shana ParkeHarrison |