A dark fuzz of fog I try to see through the cloak of the future As I wend my way unsteadily down the stream of time. The questions, like jagged rocks, threaten me While I stroke my boat, And squint for the slightest hint of daylight. Dark and gnarled trees of doubt overhang the river in spots Combing their twiggy fingers through my hair Tickling the back of my neck Stabbing my chest I glance back No darkness, no fog, no trees Clear, Bright, But the river moves too swiftly And contemplating behind is useless. I've been there. I can only learn from it And hope for the sun.4 responses total.
This is actually myfirst poem in a while so... Please, be gentle.
I enjoyed it. Of course, I wonder if there is symbolic meaning.
That's the neatest phrasing of "Hindsight is 20/20" I've ever seen.
<bows> Thank you, Russ.
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