A Slow Ascent

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A Slow Ascent


Sometimes hope is said and well-

            articulated, others just a tiger beetle

groping up a dune like all depends

            on getting there, though if or what

is ‘there’ I doubt he knows, and if

            he does it’s hanging on a thin belief.

It seems he’s settled in a rhythmic 

          perpetuity of sorts: A couple inches

 

and a sliding back, a couple seconds

            pawing at the firmament in evident

despair, another try. The more I write

            the further I am straying from the meat

of this comparison, though, so maybe it

            is nothing but an iridescent beetle fixed

on reaching something higher than

            himself, regardless of the fickle ground.

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