Put in your chips.
Get in the game.

Go fast or slow,
whichever way
it works for you to go–
even though
though that may well mean
you change your trip,
or else you find
the game can change
its nature, rules,
or very name.

It is a risk,
even just
to place your ante,

but staying out
can be
so full of fear and doubt,
my bet is this–

returns you get
in sideline sits
will be more scanty. . .

the playing’s
much more apt
to give you fun,
sustain you,
and put you where
you’re going to learn–
That sounds to me
a fate more dandy.

So, if you must,
stay where you are–
with spinning wheels
that have no teeth,
no rubber there to burn,
nor dust to leave
back in your trail—

But, as for me,
I choose to play,
and sail the unknown
every day,
and see what
will come out of that,

when helm
I’ll take in my own hands–
although I am no skipper gal. . .

nor daughter of
a vigilante.




This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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