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.
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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