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May 06, 2025
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the thread between us
The street moves beneath us,
shifting without command,
we say we walk freely,
but the road has already been carved.
Someone chose its shape
long before our steps left their weight.
A voice rises, measured, cautious,
another shouts before listening—
the argument swells, ripples outward,
each side gripping their claim
like dry earth clinging to rain.
What if the road is neither theirs nor ours?
What if we pull too hard,
and the thread between us frays?
This world tilts in fractions,
some lean into history,
others push toward tomorrow—
the balance flickers,
a candle resisting the wind.
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
neopoet
2 months 1 week ago
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Frederick Kesner
2 months 1 week ago
watching, always watching...
watching, always watching... waiting, always waiting...
Geezer
2 months 1 week ago
When we protest...
and walk on the lawn, that is the way that we prove that we can walk anywhere we want, freely.
Unfortunately, that brings problems with whatever society we live in.
I do see what you mean by the road has already been carved;
someone else has chosen its' shape.
I like the way that you "tilt the world in fractions"
and the balance flickers, a candle resisting the wind.
A mixed metaphor if I ever saw one, but it works just fine.
I got the image real clear that life is a series of balancing maneuvers, we must be forever alert. ~ Geez.
.
Frederick Kesner
2 months 1 week ago
Thanks Geeze, much
Thanks Geeze, much appreciated. The images are approximates as one may spy candles along cobbled streets as we move along. I'm glad that this dynamic worked... Most grateful to you for your valued support.:)