I wander but I’m not lost.
My lantern shows me the path between
the obfuscations of faithless partners,
like the harpies of ancient times who
scoured flesh from bone until
little of the man remained,
and the brilliance of faithful partners,
like Priam’s ardent wife Hecuba
who died beside her lord
as the world they built burned around them.
I wander and I’ll soon be lost.
The flame in my lantern sputters
from diminishing oil
and in the wilderness
one is left with few options.
© 2020 Nicholas W King