I invite my muse to stay for a long weekend
but it’s difficult finding my apartment
in this labyrinthine complex.
My text message directions are simple:
Turn left at the old Quaker Meetinghouse (not the new one)
Turn left at the run-down home by the lake in autumn
Turn left at the divorce you know is best for both
Turn left at the tree with poems rustling in the leaves
You might think you’ve turned completely around
but (Surprise!) it’s a spiral
I’m just not sure
if I’m at the center
or on the fringe.
But she still can’t find me
so I tell her to drive to Ohio
fifty-something years ago
that’s where it all started
and if she wants to get to where I am,
she’ll just have to take the same path.
(My final poem-a-day for April combined two prompts, Robert Lee Brewer’s write a surprise poem and the Poetry Superhighway’s write a poem in which you give very bad directions on how to find you.)
(Whew! I don’t have to write another poem until my next Fraiku!)
