This is something I started working on in response to a prompt in April (National Poetry Month). I don't remember the prompt, or where I got it. Sorry. photo credit Start with a simple question. Straight forward, forward straight. Eyes to the front. No peeking 'round corners. Keep your mind on the task at hand. Speaking of hands; watch what they do, they'll try to lead you astray. Hands can be tricky with agendas of their own, fingers itching to click. Side warrens beckon. Perhaps just one peep. One tiny glance surely couldn't take long. So, down we go... and down we go the rabbit hole so deep. An hour or more of wanders, we come out of our fugue. What do we know? What have we learned, on our wandering twisted path? Will our friends be amazed? Will our families applaud to know wombats poop in cubes? Will their jaws drop in wonder when told of the news that Hitchcock...