Taking Inventory

              A single black hair, two

          unreturned pencils, fifty captured

         moments, three keys, a million locks,

      a family picture frame, a box of firewood,

   a handful of courage, a pen for when, a lie for

why, the line between goal and purpose, the moral

of an old fable, an untaken shot, the pennies from

the cashier, two fallen petals, a dozen unhatched

eggs, a sibling's advice, a dewdrop of resolve,

three impossible words, a paper towel's worth of

spilled coffee, twelve footsteps, three seconds

of complete failure, two backwards glances,

an unopened bottle of ink, an infinity of

doubts, thirty fumbling syllables, an

unshed tear, two meters of thread

unwound, a shattered mirror,

a white colored pencil, the

covers of an empty book,

some guilt, thirty regrets,

two seeking eyes,

one unbroken

silence of

what will

never

be.

This is the half of the tale we all hear. Indeed, this is the half many of us experience for ourselves, and along with it all the unsought emotions and sentiments. On another note, this is the side of poetry I rarely explore. Perhaps it warrants a quick foray...or two?