tangled up in blue

the way it’s always been, you rolled in knots
on the couch of digression and me
caught in some web created
by midnight

we think
this is not the way it’s all supposed to be
but there are no rules

you see

empty

and i mark increment
knitting versions of safety net
and woolen boot

protection from frost and sudden
burn but
there’s always the forest

ripped out and rooted
redone and repaired
ribald and raucous

when the wind grows wings
to beat hard against cages
built to surround us

or keep us

or display
the truth we see
in windows

late at night

she threads
a third
needle

.

.

.

.

A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month: Day 23
I’m participating in NaPoWriMo, and the Writer’s Digest Poem a Day Challenge
Today’s theme is PAD’s write a poem that mentions footwear.
Hey, there’s a boot in there, somewhere.

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