On the Verge
by Richard Dittami
we imagine we are ready.
There are times we must make ready long before
we could have imagined.
The tipping point,
is like a trigger squeezed.
Reaction that cannot be taken back.
And what is it that follows?
Should the bow be unstrung before the arrow flies?
Time on this earth is unidirectional. Always forward, never back.
Beyond the verge is a staccato tumble into time arrested.
In strobe like sequence
legs and arms flail into the future,
swimming in a medium
of fresh awakenings.