Wednesday, October 6, 2010

I imagine a day

when all of them are gathered
in some place fragrant with
sweet flowers,
and everything is finally revealed,
as we might show a child 
the person holding the strings
on the marionette.
And many of them will nod knowingly,
perhaps saying, "So THAT'S what that was",
and others will bend their heads down and weep
softly, the grayish terrors finally falling from
their shoulders with a clattering racket.
And some will stare in shocked disbelief,
as the world they drove themselves into
like a tent stake
crumbles beneath their feet. 
And others
will laugh gleefully as they watch the
pained expressions of those
who were so sure that the marionette
was a real boy.

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