Arrows
Thank God for the arrows. What would
we do without them. We wouldn’t know
where to turn. Right or left, and how many
times. Who would warn us that the road
sharply veers. Suddenly, all exits within
a building would be uncertain. Restrooms
unlocatable. Parking structures sites of
exile without agents of decision, direction.
And death. Erase the arrows, and disarm
Robin Hood, soften and slow Diana,
her followers. We have this need: to launch
our gaze out in front of us, to follow
its trajectory. Tell us where to go, where
we are meant to go. We chase the arrow
offscreen to find what we have pierced.
We use it to search, to stab into the abyss
of the computer. Our cursor navigates,
a lantern, the tip of a spear, a stemless arrow.
And we unearth arrowheads from the lawn,
place them in a palm like stony goldfish
who have stopped moving. What do you
want of me. What are you pointing me toward.
Thank God for the eros you bring to arrows!:-)xo
ReplyDeletewell I'd be lost without them! Excellent poem!
ReplyDeleteThey are so much a part of our lives, we fail to notice them. Until now. Nicely done!
ReplyDeleteAnd sometimes they point in multiple directions, forcing a decision.
ReplyDeleteThis is so cute...I am often annoyed by arrows on trails, those that have been turned towards the bears' dens, or those that send us to the wrong direction. After a few of those, I have been using my map and the little arrows on the map.
ReplyDeletexoxo
I would be hard-pressed to have to select your best poem. Your work is consistently excellent. Again, you take an unexpected, even prosaic subject and through poetry, transform it into a thought-provoking and compelling piece of writing.
ReplyDeleteamazing all the places you take us in this. its light and deeply moving, too. it's wonderful.
ReplyDeleteWonderful.
ReplyDeleteWe like so much to be controlled that we forget we can just, simply go.