Happy National Poetry Month!

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Mulling

 

Is it outside myself, whatever I reach for

or will I find it by seeing what I already hold in my hands.

Recognizing raw and real and rock solid the substance

and courage to climb the next hill and the one after that.

 

It is what I have–the choice to be on fear’s leash

or turn and drag fear behind me, trembling

with every step forward. Looming failure is a facade

full of hot air. Terrifying beforehand, but

 

once I’m there, facing him, I only need acknowledge his presence

and he deflates, shrinks down until I fold him up

and put him in my pocket with the others.

Or, depending on the day, simply step over him and walk on.

 

©2018/Kim Zimmerman/All Rights Reserved

 

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