Turning Corners

I have never seen
a god
nor an angel,
but I have seen words
materialize before me
firmly and without ambiguity.
I’ve seen “love” and “betrayel” and “despair,”
for instance —
and in that order.
They stood there like things,
like dresser drawers or lamps or shut doors.
Imagine that,
love spelled out,
right there before me.
But the swoop in love’s e
was showy, brash;
t’was made too quickly.
I should’ve known then
what was to follow.

But that is not all.
I also once saw “peace” and “quiet”
after the short stick
had grown shorter still.
Troubled times,
no matter their walks labyrinthine,
it might have said,
always have their corners
to be turned.
But my legs,
are so very tired.

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