Show Me

I could go back then, like you.
There are always better beginnings that would not risk error.
I could go on from where I began,
let the beginning have its head and run away with my life.
Like you, I would live without appetites
I gleaned from the surrounding countryside.
Even the sheep would lie down with the wolves,
toothless wolves, sheep abandoned by shepherds,
though there you have the country
without the city and its open eyes
shutting when the crime occurs.
If there is an innocent beginning
whose origin is never corrupt and never turns to guilt,
show me.
The veil would be lifted.
Hands on my hands. No arrests.
Simply caution, patience.
Eyes steady, blinking only to shield sight
from too much brilliance, to humble the tongue.
Nor can the second time around not be the same as the first,
failing . . .

(2 December 2012)

copyright 2012 by Floyce Alexander