OR
I sometimes wonder who is strongest:
those whose transparent hearts
throb in rhythm with every thought
passions paraded like petticoats
worn on the outside
sadness like cascades
spilling over rounded hills
or
those who long ago learned to staunch
the flow of blood
sit in waiting behind closed doors
and stiff smiles
smothering hope
that someone, someday, will
pick the lock?
Then I wonder which takes more courage:
to learn, after being scalded once
by the fire
to avoid the kitchen
choosing to see deepest longing
as a lure –
the iced gingerbread that called
Hansel and Gretel
to their doom
or
To leap from one frying pan
to the next
wearing the pain
like medals
always facing the heat one more time
just one more time
to chase
a reward
like the greyhound chases the rabbit?