Fair warning was given
about conjuring the friction of lightning
between fingertips by rod
and cone
resembling a dunce cap
Yet left alone with our (de)vices
the pattern unfurls and we sew through
our patchwork day
cross-stitching moments like frayed ends
we measure progress
in squares,
the roots are bound
to wrap and tangle.
Observers interrupt our busy work
with every blink, the weight shifted,
the curtain fell, the lever broke,
the shim slipped in
and stirred up so much hope
the air welled with thunder.
We should have known better.
We could have made ourselves welcome.
We did not know how to enforce Liberty for all.
There were signs
and symbols denoting the escape velocity,
with arrows, the Exit sign was always live.
It was easier to get in.
Painting by Abraham Solomon, c. 1859 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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