April 14
THE PLAYGROUND
Getting my ass kicked in the playground of my mind was once
a daily event. Now, it is a far off
memory. I absent myself from the jungle
gym the same way I absent myself from bars---places set with traps and schemes
I am no longer attracted to. Bullies and
ego trips can’t draw me toward the fence.
Dares and double-dares are such ancient devices I can’t even find the
trigger they used to pull. Trouble
doesn’t know my new name, my sober name; I don’t answer to the old one. I hate to admit the isolation of my school
yard days, but no one I knew back then will keep me on the road to the
future. So, I leave the ball in their
court and wish them well.
Expectations are
lovely as long as you leave off the outcomes.
*
Not Fur but Fin
You can’t delay the river,
I’ve tried, all it does is distort.
I block the flow and swamp ensues,
mighty oaks waist deep in water.
The current is strong
and I fear being swept away,
not realizing I was born to swim.
Dreading the swim back for spawn
I try to stay too close to my origins,
never make it to open water,
never to live the life I was intended for.
I’ve heard it said,
“Don’t push the river it flows by itself,”
but I can’t stall it either.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane
and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
