in the Sylvia Path sense,
I am still trying
to move my pieces
into formation,
but I seam to be stuck
somewhere in the middle,
not losing, but not winning.
The good thing is
I am not competitive,
the bad thing is
I am not competitive,
which, when you're in a pickle,
is a knife-saving skill,
because you need that edge
to overcome certain obstacles.
For instant instance,
like when you have been running
from something beautiful
for almost three years,
having that drive will make you decide,
but like I said, I don't have it,
and so I just swim in place,
never drowning, never on land.
Maybe this year, I tell myself,
I will finally move my pieces into place
and seize the board, the stage, day,
while hopefully taken a step
in the direction of finally moving on,
moving up, finishing the bloody game
in a good way, after which I can relax
in a little corner I call my own.