DESTINY

A bright rope in the dark,
and a dark rope in the brightness
of a day, hang about me.
At times, shadow-like, they follow me.
I don't know why.

Often, pinned to my solitude,
I think on it, cogitate on it.
All at once, the ropes become snakes,
then women, then tigers, and in
every shape they still someone's breath.

And within minutes, neither
the women nor the tigers are there.
No snakes hissing.
A clear-eyed rope is dangling
with a competent clairvoyance.