i’ve encountered many potholes in my life. some were clearly marked
others not so much
>
regardless of the markings and warnings, i have learned something from each pothole visited.
apparently i am not the only one who has potholes for teachers . . .
I.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hold in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost . . . I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
II.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in, again.
I can’t believe I am in this same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hold in the sidewalk.
I see it there.
I still fall in . . . it’s a habit . . . but,
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
IV.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V.
I walk down another street.
(Portia, Nelson. There’s A Hole in my Sidewalk. NY, Popular Library, 1977)
(today’s little installment is part of this, already in progress)
