How many times have we reached this point
The climax, the end, the apotheosis
An enigma solved, an unbreakable bone
Left rotting in the sink
Your growth and mine cannot mix, but their pain can
We bring ourselves to it methodically, inevitably, like
A wheel, a closed circle
Rising action, falling action, over and over
Life, death, rebirth - no, growth
Feet learning to stand, thumbs to mould
Slowly, eyes to see
The chapter yet again reaches its close
But the track is incomplete
And the sentence does not reach its end
Spinning through the garden
©another
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