again and again,
and again and again.
Each start, preceded by a step that was stopped with a monumental screech in mid motion, locking the brakes on a tire of movement.
failure hung in the air like the dank moldy smell permeating from the basement of our lives,
waiting, begging to be ripped down,
rebuilt, and repainted fresh.
Each start is preceded by a notion for a grand desire for change, growth, newness.
Followed by the sound the screech against the pavement of realization, limitation,
burnt rubber fills the air as the tire slides...brake engaged.
Starting again and again,
Bambi of ice,
each leg independent of directed course,
each going in its own direction,
Fighting my own instinct to move, be still,
move again, be still,
Is it stable ground?
Maybe not, start again.
wait, maybe it is.
Copyright © Mike Liquori | Year Posted 2015
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