4c

one takes the path
(indecisive yet) between
the house of darkness and
the dwelling place of light
in there
between, amidst
the path is winding
as though between two
mountains
breasts, leak,
bleak, break, slit,
betwixt

alive, one walks through
this path between two choices
black
&
white one sometimes compromises
taking
the other colors between
shades of gray

but until when?

ah, when one loses grasp
of air,
crumpled space, crumbling self,
the die must ultimately be cast

where are you?
there is fence out there
and you are
told to jump but where?

footnote
do not choose what you are
choose what is
right.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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