dangling

“Life doesn't have plots and subplots and denouements. It's just a
   big collection of loose ends and dangling threads that never get
                              explained.”—Grant Morrison
   
on the wing, a sparrow hawk,
     his feather rudder dancing with the wind;
          or, tiptoeing on his stalk,
               a lily-bloom with water woes to mind.

                    teetering upon his edge,
                         a child unwary of his pending fall;
                              deep misgivings for his pledge,
                                   a suitor, suited, on his maiden call.

                                   two opinions in vogue,
                              opposing flames burn intervening ties;
                         each one dangling like a rogue,
                    no compromise to sever fool from wise.

               finally, a man high-strung
          upon a saline drip, barely alive,
     wanting back the years he's flung
away, when life had fertile hopes to give.

                         © Copyright 2023 November 01
                                   by Clyve A. Bowen♫