Frank Was Right

 Frank Was Right

Frank was right. He saw what I did not wish to see. Told me I had a dreamer’s rationale; that a place would not make things change. I cockily responded that I would be taking ‘me’ with me.

What I didn’t realize was that the ‘me’ was the dream I was seeking in my own undefined wafty way. Solid in the flesh perhaps. The mind though, filled with vague shapes of ambition and sharp desires and new love, was another matter.

So I left, moved away, took myself with me. Threw myself into a hole with vague undefined sides and bottom. Found the bottom. Quite the fall. Found the sides too. Crawled up them. Found parts of me there in the dislocated mud.

Ever tried to claw your way out of a well you’ve fallen into? Might need some help. A rope thrown down perhaps after the fingernails are broken, the mud is clotted on your hands and the desperation is at your feet.. All that muddy detritus.

Frank was right. I do have a dreamer’s rationale. Most likely I always will.  I did dig  myself out of the hole he knew I’d fall into. There’s more to me than the mud though.  I now look more carefully where I tread.