Down the Rabbit Hole

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 was frightened of eggs?  

How will we,

after burial news, 

ever look at Pringles the same?*

 

down the rabbit hole so deep

where worms and crawlies keep

their secrets, keep their plans

hidden from the eyes of man 

 

*The Pringle can inventor was so proud of his can design, he chose to be have his ashes buried in one!

 

©2022 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved

 

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