Expectations.....

                                                       
                                                                          ANDREW WYETH

EXPECTATIONS

I think of lowering my expectations.
I had in mind a world with open arms.
Yet I've felt a chill to my ambition,
and suffer as my bones sculpt into ice.

I listen to the beat of retro music.
Mellow has a way
to slow my dreams.
And tapping my foot
seems quite polite
for those dancing
a jig around me.

Looking over the edge
I see rejection gaining,
no matter that it shuffles
with the apathy of a snail.

My resistance curls
into the air like vapor,
and the mirror reflects
a proper dignity.

Like a stake in the heart,
the first kill of my desire
is tolerated with a smile.

I learn to approve of
the threadbare me,
and throw away
my childish intention.


This poem evolved from a poetry prompt in Poets and Writers Magazine in which we were asked to randomly pick ten words out of the dictionary and write a poem around them.  I no longer remember the original words, but they really are there!


copyright/ all rights reserved/2011


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